I'm The Villian
by Keiko Sahara
Summary: When it comes to war everbody suffers.Some were betrayed, others maimed, and others had their spirits broken.However one keeps a bright lookout on life.What happens when his boss tells him he's going to kill another nation?A SEMI-HISTORICALY ACCURATE fic
1. WORLD STATE TMP

*****Prelude*****

**There are over 195 nations in this world, all different in their own little way. From the biggest, Russia, to even the smallest, Sealand, all the nations are important to the world. We don't know how the nations became human, and we don't question it. Its just something that has always been and will probally always be. Maybe the nations are just here to serve their leaders, to be literal pawns and knights in the big chess game of life. That is what most people believe and even some nations believe. But, some wonder, what if there was a bigger purpose to being a nation, what if they were put here to lead us, not listen to some human leader? Most nations wouldn't dream of it, while others would take over in a heartbeat. One nation, older than the rest knows the dangers of a being a nation. He has seen many things, being immortal, and has come up with a list of lessons all nations are to follow, just as if it was the human's bible. The name of the rules are simple: W.O.R.L.D S.T.A.T.E T.P.M (Total Peace Model). All nations know this rule book by heart and live by it to ensure the promised peace they were to get from following it.**

**Rule number one: Wars**

**Rule number two: Other Nations**

**Rule number three: Relgions **

**Rule number four: Leaders **

**Rule number five: Disasters**

**Rule number six: Secret Services**

**Rule number seven: Treaties**

**Rule number eight: Appointments**

**Rule number nine: Trading**

**Rule number ten: Economy**

**Rule number eleven: Travel**

**Rule number tweleve: Polotics**

**Rule number thirteen: Memorials**

**It worked at first, but something wasn't right, it seemed not finished. When asked about this China would deny the question, saying it was complete. The nations accepted this and decided that world peace was unattainable after all and some abondaned the lessons. Then, World War II started, and the nations lost all hope for peace on earth. There was betrayal, bloodshed, and death amoung the nations, some of them injured so bad they could hardly move while others wondered why they had attacked in the first place. The rest of the world watched as the Allies fought against the Axis, throwing everything upside down, the list of rules forgotten by most except for the few who believed everything would turn out right. Alfred F. Jones was one of those nations, believeing everything had a happy ending, just like in all the movies his people created. The hero always prevailed while the villians were defeated. Peace would come, he just knew it.**


	2. Allies Meeting

**Chapter 1**

America sighs, his head down on the meeting table. He was strumming his fingers on the table, watching the clock intently as if expecting something. England was going over some plans to attack some base, his arms, chest and neck banadaged up, one banadaged wrapped around his forehead as well. He had still not recovered from the V-2 bombs that Germany had bombed him with over a year ago. He was near death from the bombings when it first happened, and he had almost died in front of America, but three days later he was chasing after America like normal. He was still fighting though, the pirate in him claiming that it was just a scratch. America wasn't really paying attention to England, just looking at the clock. His boss had called him the other day, telling him he needed to see him immediatly, around 3:00 pm in Washigton DC. In the Allies room was a new member, he was staying as far away from the other nations, being forced here against his will. It was Italy. Italy had surrendered three years ago and was actually with them in the Allies, forced to by his new boss. He looked scared of everybody there, wanting to just go back to where Germany was. America is still constantly tapping his fingers, groaning in annoyance at the slow clock. As he's busily glaring at the clock he hears somebody clear their throat and looks up, seeing England, who had his arms folded across his chest.

"Alfred, is there something that you need to tell us?" He asks.

"Um...uh." He looks around, "Uh, yeah." He stands up, "I will be leaving for my country are 1400 today for a meeting at 1500 hours." He smiles big.

England groans, "I hope this meeting wasn't important..."

"Actually it was. It was to discuss our attack on Japan." He says proudly.

Italy winces, hating listening to the others plan to attack his friends. England groans, hitting his forehead with his palm, looking up at the ceiling. France almost bursts out laughing while China looks in shame. America looks at the others in shock, not understanding why they were laughing at him.

"What?! What's the matter?! Its a very important meeting, I swear." America yells in his defense.

England sighs, "America, is it at the White House?" America nods, "You're late."

"Huh?! But..." America gasps out.

"Time Zones, Alfred, you forget about the bloody times zones. Its 1300 here right?" America nods. "Then it is already 2000 hours over in Washington. You've been late." England explains.

The news hits America in surprise, the nation leaping up in shock. He was racing now, his mind in a panic. He was never that late for a meeting. He had forgotten all about the time zones, use to just going to meetings in Europe, not back in his home land. His boss was going to kill him. He hops up and dashes out the door, hoping England was wrong. The others sigh as they see America leave, slamming the door behind him.

England sighs, shaking his head, "I swear, sometimes I don't even know what to do with him."

France grins, "You did raise him, he just took after you."

"What did you say?!" England growls out, clenching his fist to punch France in his face.

"Aiyah! Guys, guys, stop fighting and lets get back to the meeting, aru. Germany has already surrendered, now we just need to make Japan surrender now and we will win." China says, "Can't we have a meeting where you don't beat each other up for stupid things, aru?"

England sighs, "He's right, and as a Gentleman I will calmly back down."

France nods, "That's only because you're too injured from Germany to do much besides tell us what to do, with that full body cast almost."

"WHY YOU!! ITS JUST A FLESH WOUND! I'm perfectly fine, never better you wanker! Its not a cast, just banadges anyway you arsehole!!" England declares, being held back by China trying to charge at France and pull his beard out piece by little peice.

"France nii-san. Please stop pestering England. I always get hurt when you two start fighting, ve." Italy yelps out, back away from France and getting closer to Canada.

　France sighs, "Oh, Desole Feliciano." France says, almost forgetting that Italy was there.

England calms down, dusting off his banadges and shooting China a death glare, "Yao, I might advise you not to do that again or else I might accidently slip up and punch you."

"Deliquint." France mutters under his breath.

England growls, "What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing." France says, Italy groaning and cowering behind Canada, the unnoticed nation looking worried too.

China hops up, "Look, everybody is tried, aru. How about we start up the meeting tommorrow? After a good lunch so we won't be so cranky, aru."

England was glaring down France, China standing between the two, hoping to stop them from fighting. Russia meanwhile is enjoying the scene, watching as a big smile spreads across his face. He loved it when England fought France in the meetings, it gave him an excuse to pull out his lead pipe, and start attacking. Italy surprisingly was always his target. He didn't know why but it was like a bull seeing red, him just drawn to the weak nation. Italy gulps, seeing Russia getting a crazy look on his face, knowing that Russia was coming after him no matter where he was. China grabs England and starts dragging him out.

"Come on everybody, lets go back to our bases for now, aru." China says, pushing the furious England in front of him.

France sticks his tongue out at England and pulls down his bottom eye lid, making England see red. Italy doesn't take long to rush out of the meeting room, desperate to get back to his base and away from Russia, before France and England started the free for all. China manages to get England outside and push him in direction of his base, France laughing his head off in the building, Russia grinning along with him. Italy heads back to his tent sighing as he nears the Italian Army, knowing that his leader still had not released Germany since he surrendered in front of Italy on May 2, with the white flag he had given him at the beginning. Germany was still locked up, awaiting to be charged with his war crimes. Italy had tried to explain that it wasn't Germnay's fault but the Allies wouldn't listen to him since he was a former Axis Power. He knew for a fact that Germany had actually tried to assisinate Hitler with a few of Hitler's closest army personel but the mission had failed. He sits down, looking at the soldiers greeting him, not noticing the hurt look on their nation. He was torn between friends and a war.

"Caio Italia. (Hello Italy) We made some pasta would you like some?" One soldier greets him, a big smile on his face

Italy just walks past him, heading directly into his tent, even ignoring the pasta that his troops were eating. All he wanted was for Germany to be back, and for his friends to be ok.

**Here is the first chapter. The chapter before was just an introduction to the story. This story will use and explain all those rules. Clever huh, the whole coming up with a decent name for it. I took me days and I had to rearrange some rules and rename them but it came out perfect. I'm going to write a seperate story where its China explaining every rule in detail. The tones featured in here are the abbrivated versions. Please read and review. I actually found a pretty accrurate Timeline and am double checking it. If you see something out of place, tell me and I'll try to fix it. I've done more research and even some things I got off the show (V-2 bombs are from episode 13) Only England didn't get hurt as bad in the show. I just made him a little more realistic, though he's not too hurt, just his arms, chest and neck wrapped up to prevent infection more like it. Yes, believe it or not, 3 years before the war ended, Italy had given up to the Allies. He got a new boss and then Italy joined the Alllies. The German army didn't like this and they sent the Italian soldiers they did have to the camps as well. It was May 2, 1945 that Germany finally surrendered in Italy. I'm teaching, somewhat...hehehe. Oh and they did try to assisinate Hitler at the end of the war, but it failed. I think they made a movie about it, called V for Vendeta. Poor America, always late for a meeting. And I tried to make use of Time Zones to make it more realistic. Have a Good Day, Addio!**


	3. Alfred Foxtrot Jones

Chapter 3

America hops out of his fighter plane, finally arrived at Washington DC. He tosses his helmet off and rushes through the base, ignoring the shouts towards him for not going by the runway protocals. It was around 2am and he was tired, his mind racing that he was late, he was SO late. He was so dead, the president would fuss him out for this and he hated to be yelled at. He slows down, realising that his boss wouldn't be up at this time. Heck, he shouldn't even be up at this time. He stops sighing as he sees some soldiers approaching him, looking worried.

One dashes up, looking America over, "Mr. America, are you ok? Are you hurt?" It was a Sergeant Major, they all knew about him and the nations. It was standard procedure to be told when they receieved their new rank about all the nations.

America shakes his head, "No, I'm fine."

A second one looks at America in confusion, "What? Then why were you running like you were dying?"

America sighs, "I missed my meeting, Truman's going to kill me."

"WHAT?!" The soldiers yell out, worried about the nation.

America sighs, waving his hands in front of him, "Oh, not for real, he's just not going to be too happy about me being...11 hours late for a meeting."

A Sergeant sighs in relief, "Oh, you had us worried for a minute there Mister America. Truman has left to go to sleep and won't probally be awake until 0800 hours sir."

America sighs, "Can I get a room for tonight then? I kinda rushed over here without thinking that the president would be awake at this ungodly hour."

Sergeant Major nods, "Yes sir. Come this way, you can board with Foxtrot Company tonight. Private Vicks had to go home with a broken leg and there's an extra bed." He leads America away, the rest of the soldiers dispersing, waving good bye to America joking and carring on.

America yawns, stretching his arms above his head. He quickly freezes, letting his arms come down, his chest still paining him from Pearl Harbor. The Sergeant Major doesn't question, choosing not to ask why America had winced. He leads America to the barracks, the nation touching his left chest, feeling the scar that had formed since then. He wasn't mad at Kiku for launching the attack, after all, they all had to follow the rules of being a nation. Everybody had to follow these rules, they had been developed by Yao, since he was immortal he had figured out the basics of being a nation. The thirteen rules to live by. WORLD STATE TPM (Total Peace Model). It was supposed to insure peace between all nations but so far he hadn't seen any results. But he wasn't giving up on it like so many of the other nations had, he believed in it as much as he believed in his own abilities. When Kiku had attacked on that infamous day, one thought was going through his mind, Rule number 1, first lesson in being a nation, is wars.

**Wars are a daily part of life for us nations, because our bosses can never agree with each other. Its important that you can defend yourself if one of your fellow nations attacks you. And remember, what happens in war is never your fault, we are just pawns, to be used as our leaders see fit. We are freed of this duty when death finally claims us. Its never our fault.**

It wasn't Kiku attacking of his own will but because his boss told him to. At least this is what America told himself at night. The Sergeant Major leads America up to the barracks and opens the doors.

"Attention!" He yells, the joking around soldiers quickly standing at attention, looking straight forward.

"Today you have a new bunk mate, I'm sure a few of you have heard of him and some believe him not to exist but he is here with us tonight for a special ocassion, so treat him with the utmost respect. Mr. Alfred F. Jones will be sleeping in Foxtrot's barracks tonight, do I make myself clear?"

"Huaah!" The group announces.

"Good, at ease men and have a good night." He walks out, the soilders looking at America.

One walks up to him, "Who the hell are you?"

America ignores him, just wanting to go to sleep. This usually happened when the new recruits met him. He could tell they were Privates, all of them looking at him with unsure looks, studying him. He knew exactly what they were thinking, why was he so special? The guy growls, standing up blocking America from going to the empty bunk.

"I asked you a question, Jones." He spits out, smirking at America.

"You wouldn't understand." America says, looking over Texas at the young soldier.

"Try me." He says.

America looks at the soldiers crowding around, eager to see what Jones had to say. It was the same thing everytime, he would tell them, they would scoff and push him, saying he was crazier than they thought. He would then be told to prove it which required to do something nobody but a nation could do, which was lifting something heavy in his case.

He sighs, "I'm Alfred F. Jones. Also known to my leader and other chains of the goverment as America." He says, "I'm a nation." He replies calmly and walking by the guy.

The guy growls and suddenly swings, not liking the joke he thought they guy was saying about the country he was fighting for. America gasps as he sees the fist coming, ducking with incredable speed, the guy's fist instead connecting with the pole beside America. The guys whince as they hear a crack, not a good sign for the guy or the pole for that matter. Even America was shaking his hand as he sees the guy yell out, grabbing his hand in agony. This was unexpected, he never had somebody attack him for telling them. America stumbles back, seeing the man glaring him down.

The soldier growls and grasps his hand, shaking it in pain, "Who are you really?! Tell us the truth."

"I am." He says, looking at the company, "Do I have to prove myself, because I'm really tired and I want to get some sleep before I go meet Truman tommorrow." America says, straightening his posture. The guy glares, America swearing his eyes were glowing in anger.

"You're not a nation." He growls out, "I fight for my nation, you're just crazy."

Now it was going like it usually does, "Hold up a moment." He says, grabbing a bed's railing with his right arm, not wanting to pain his scar.

The two guys on the bed are looking in surprise as America lifts the bed off the ground as if it was a piece of paper, the rest of the soldiers looking in shock. Even the soldier who tried to attack him was stunned, just looking as America turns around, looking at them, the bed still lifted up.

"Now, can I get some sleep?" He says, the guy on the top bunk of the bed, holding onto the railing for fear life, looking in awe at the guy holding up his bed, with him on it.

They nod, whispering amongst themselves. America places the bed down on the ground, walking to the empty bed and sitting on the materess. He takes off his coat and gets ready to drap it at the bottom of the bed when he grins, looking at the inside of the coat. He had wondered where he put the plans for D-Day, he had been looking for them for a few days now. One of the soldiers spots the map sewn into the lining of his coat.

"Hey, what's that?" He asks, looking from the bunk above America.

America looks up, "Oh, this. This is the actual map of the D-Day invasion."

"No way!" One soldier cries out, getting behind America to see the plans. "Why is it in your coat?"

America laughs, "Well, I figured, they always check your pockets for plans but, they never take off your coat, so if I got captured it would be hidden in plain sight." He explains, laying his coat at the foot of the bed.

The guys nod and get back to their beds, most of them accepting the fact that he was their nation and bunking with them for the night. They wouldn't tell anybody though, nobody would believe them if they tried. Even they didn't believe it and they were staring right at the nation. America sighs and takes off his unifrom, leaving on his shorts and undershirt, his silver dogtags hanging around his neck. He lays down on his back, whincing as he stretches, the scar on his lchest stretching as well. He takes off Texas, laying the glasses beside him on the bed, careful not to place it somewhere he would accidenty knock them off from. He sighs as the room gets queit as the soldiers start to get ready for bed too. It was Saturday so they were goofing around, they didn't have to get up in the morning. _August 4, 1945 we have been fighting for 4 years, wonder if the fighting will ever end._ America drifts off to sleep, having the same nightmare he does every night, the date of Pearl Harbor.

**Caio. This is the next chapter of I'm The Villian. Looks like even America can be late for a meeting. Even I had forgotten about the Time Zones, so don't feel bad America. So here is the first of the thirteen rules of being a nation, Wars. I will eventually have a whole rule book typed up here for anybody to use on their stories. It will kinda turn out like the Skippy list online for Soldiers. Oh, its dinner time over here, ve. I hope they'll have pasta, they'll have pasta right? Pasta would be nice, pasta. It would be awesome if we had some pasta. Pasta, right?**

**Keiko: Mixalis, what is Italy doing here?!**

**Mixalis: Well, he looked so depressed in the last chapter, I decided to cheer him up.**

**Keiko: By letting him do the authors notes?! (Growls)**

**Mixalis: Oh come on Kay, have a heart. (Smirks at Keiko while she growls louder) I mean, who can resist this face? (Pushes Italy in front of Keiko, Italy looking quite pitiful)**

**Keiko: No, not the....puppy dog face....ok fine. Contine on with the author's notes Feliciano. (Curse the power of the puppy dog face, it is very effective)**

**Italy: Yatta! ****Grazie! Ok, as I was saying, ve. Keiko's wrist is still messed up thought it is slowly recovering. And this story will be better than the last one, and longer, with more detail and historical facts, ve. Ok, we can go eat pasta now, right?**

**Keiko: Italy, they might not even have pasta today. They never have pasta, French Toast, or Cheesecake around here at College, its like gold. (Stops as she sees Italy's sad face) But, they might. (She reasures him)**

**Mixalis: (nods) Sure, and besides, half the time it tastes bad, no meat.**

**Keiko: (Groans as Italy looks even more sad) But they have Pizza all the time.**

**Italy: (Perks up) Pizza?**

**Mixalis: (Scoffs) If you can call that mess Pizza.**

**Italy: PPIIZZZZAA! Pizza, pizza, pizza! (Runs towards Cafeteria)**

**Keiko: Um, Mixa, I think all he heard was 'Pizza'**

**Mixalis: Yeah, just don't let him die from eatting the pizza, Germany would kill me. I promised the guy I wouldn't let nothing happen to the silly boy while he was visiting America's House. (Walks away) Now I know why Germany drinks so much Peptobismal, where is that blasted medicine. (goes to cabinet and starts chugging back the pink liquid) Ya bai, Ya bai, Ya bai. (This is bad)**

**Keiko: Oh and a special thanks to darandomninja for the best review that I've ever got about the end last year and for inspiring me to write this. You should check out her Stories, especially the Revolution one, The Changes as Time Progresses. They are the most beautifully written stories I've read up here. Grazie and have a happy Earth Day! Please Read and Review, I really need to see how it is going, ok, and if I'm writting it right. I want to please my readers and I can't do that unless I get some feedback from my readers. Grazie, and Aiddo.  
**


	4. The Hero Dreams

Chapter 4

_America yells as another bomb rips through the battleship, throwing him off balance. He was confused, what was going on here? He was disoriented, just leaping out of bed. Another bomb lands, America falling onto the deck of the ship as it jerks violently. His chest was in pain, he had never felt this pain before, not in a long time that is. He is helped up by a strong pair of arms, seeing the navy man help him up. he looked scared out of his wits, almost pale as a sheet. He helps America steady himself before pointing to the ladder to the left._

_"GO ON!" The guy yells, dashing towardsthe ladder and climbing up._

_America rushes up the ladder onto the deck and stares in shock at what was happening. There were planes, hundreds of them if not more, all flying right over the battle ships, bombs dropping down in the dozens. America dives to the deck as he sees another one fall towards them. He is thrown as it lands, America yelling in pain as he is slammed into a wall. He slumps down, a red gash appearing on his left chest. He gasps and struggles to get up, almost falling back onto the deck before dashing away from the flying metal, not even noticing the new wound. The deck buckles up, America yelling as he slides down the deck, screams tearing through the air along with explosions. America stops himself from sliding any further by clinging onto the railing, jerking his shoulder out of socket._

_"Ah!" America yelps out, cling to the railing as the ship lands back down, water lauching into the air around him._

_The cold water splashes down on his face, wetting his hair slightly. The ship lands, starting to sinking under. America groans, standing up as the bow begins to tilt up. He looks up at a loud noise and stares in shock at the planes, recognising the red dot on the tail of the plane. Japan. His people were doing this? America couldn't believe it, he just couldn't bring himself to think that his best friend, Kiku, had planned this to happen. He just couldn't. America gasps as he sees yet another bomb coming for the ship and dives out of the way. He covers his head and waits for the explosion. He stops, nothing happening and looks at the bomb, the propeller on the end still turning but slowly coming to a stop._

_"Oh sh-" He yells and the bomb explodes, America blacking out for a second. _

_He wakes back up when a blast of cold water wakes him up sinking underneath the surface. He had been thrown off the ship by the blast, lauching into the crystal clear Hawaiian waters. He struggles towards air, trying to swim when he sees streams of what looks like air bubbles heading straight down towards him and a few others. It was bullets, they were coming after him and his defensless men with bullets. He holds his breath as one hits his leg, causing America to almost scream in pain. He ducks and dodges, the bullet hole in his leg making it worse to swim. He finally gets a break and burst through the surface of the water, taking a deep breath of the sweet oxygen. _

_"Mr. Jones!" He hears somebody yell out, "Watch out!" _

_America looks back and gasps as he sees a Japanese plane droning towards him and ducks under the water as it opens fire on him. He swims deep, just missing the streams of bullets, growling as the salt water gets into his wounds. His skin was slightly burnt from the bomb going off so close to him and the water didn't help his case one bit. A nation could go into shock just as well as a human and you weren't suppose to put water on a burn, hoping it wasn't a 1st or 2nd degree burn. He holds his breath and swims under a piece of sinking metal, hearing the bullets richete off of the metal and the firing stop. America swims out from under the piece of metal, his lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. He swims towards the surface but he blacks out as he feels a bullet hit him and sinks down._

_Hands. Water. Pain. Dragging. The feeling of rising. Air. Loud sounds. Voices. Explosions. Feelings of pain. Awarness. America groans, feeling somebody pushing down on his chest, preforming CPR. He coughs up water, hearing the guy sigh in relief, seeing America open his eyes._

_"Mr. Jones, you ok?" He asks, looking at America._

_America nods, "W..what happened?" He asks, sitting up, groaning as his left arm pushes him up._

_He looks at his white uniform, seeing a large spot of blood appearing on the white clothe, and snatches off the shirt. He winces at the sight, a large gash has formed across his chest, still bleeding badly._

_"Hell, you're hurt bad, Mr. Jones, and look at those burns. Let's get you out of here." He says._

_America looks around for the planes, seeing nothing but what was left of Pearl Harbor. "Where'd they go?" He asks._

_The navy man sighs, "They left just as suddenly as they came, sir."_

_America growls, "Shit, England warned me about this, I should've known that the war would get to me somehow."_

_America stands up but freezes, feeling a firey pain perice his chest and falls to his knees. He looks down, seeing the red blood dripping on his hands and the long silver blade peircing through him. He turns, shaking, seeing Kiku standing above him, his katana sticking through him._

_"Sayonara Amerika." He says evilly, America blacking out._

America yells, sitting up in his bed in a cold sweat. He puts his hand on his chest, sighing as he feels the scar, his heart beating five times faster than it should've been pumping. He had never had that part of the dream before, never. He breaths in and out, deep breaths to calm him down. What did that mean, the dream. Japan wasn't even at the attack, much less close enough to him to stab him through. He was freaked out, not even noticing the other men staring at him in the room. One, a private above him on the bunk looks down on him, his blonde hair cut into the military style. America gasps, cringing, his eyes shutting as the scar starts to trouble him, the throbbing paining him.

"America, you ok?" The Private asks.

America looks up, seeing the soldier that had spotted the map in his coat. "Yeah, my chest." He says, not really feeling like sharing his dream with the troup.

"Yeah, I saw that, how'd you get it if I may ask?" The Private asks.

America sighs, seeing he might have to share after all, "Who are you by the way?"

"Samuel, Private Samuel." He grins, looking down at America, "And its a prvilage to meet my nation. Never would've though there was such a thing as nations besides the land."

"Yeah, nobody seems to know about us, only very few people do. But, the scar is from Pearl Harbor if you must know." America says, sighing as he puts his head back on the pillow.

"You were at Pearl Harbor? My dad was there, you might know him. He was Sergeant Stark, Randy Stark. He worked at the base but left before the base got attacked." A guy beside him says, the one that was on the top of the bed America picked up.

America looks at him, "Um, sorry. I never knew a Sergeant Randy Stark, but he might know me, all Sergeants and up do. Its Military standards." He rubs the back of his head in sleepiness, his hand rubbing across Nantucket as he puts his hand down on the pillow.

Samuel sighs, "Oh, ok. So, you know the president? That's awesome." Samuel exclaims, rolling over and looking up at ceiling, "Sorry about that guy who tried to hit you earlier. He is very easy to offend. His family has a history in the military. An relative of his actually fought in the Revolutionary war, he was a War Hero. I think it his name was Colonel John Eager Howard."

America sits up quickly, looking at the guy who tried to hit him. He points in shock, smiling big "YOU are Howard's realitive?!" He says, almost hitting his head on the low bunk.

The company looks in shock at America, America grinnning wide and staring down Private Howard. He had brown, black hair and green eyes. Those green eyes should've given him away, full of fire. No wonder, he acted just like Howard, he was Howard's son, sort of. John Howard actually knocked America to the ground when he had first told him who he was, not pleased with the joke he had thought America had said all those years ago. America laughs, pleased that Howard's family hadn't lost their spirit after all these years, even reacting the same way. he knew Howard was a born hero, just like his ancestor. Samuel looks down in surprise as does the rest of Foxtrot company, even the ones who were just waken up by America's laughing.

"You knew him?" Private Howard exclaims, a couple of people groaning as they were starting to wake up, disturbed by America's laugh.

"Yeah I knew good old Howard. He didn't like me too much ethier now that I think about it. He clear knocked me out when we first met, something no one had ever done before or after. No human anyway, he was a true hero. I think you almost came close to repeating that famous right-hook. Old Howard helped turn the tide on the battle against England and actually turned the tide of the war, helping us win." He says, grinning wide.

Private Howard sits up, looking at America, "Wait, you knew Colonel John Howard?" He smirks, "You say he cleaned knocked you out huh, heh." He laughs, glad that somebody had at least gotten the honor of slugging America. He looks up confused, "I never heard of you before now, how come he didn't tell my family?"

Private Stark looks down on Howard, sighing, "Well, I can't blame the guy, his family would probally think he was nuts. I mean, would anybody believe you if you told them you met a guy who claimed he was America?"

Howard looks down, "I guess you're right Stark, no one would even look at me the same if I told them that."

America sighs, "If only more people knew about me, but China, he says we have to keep it under wraps. If it got out that there were human nations it would cause repricutions. We have all the same weaknesses that humans do, able to be killed with a well placed bullet. But I never pay attention to China's lectures that much. Nor England's for that matter, he is so strict sometimes. Last time I didn't listen to him I got Freedom." He grins, joking around.

The soldiers laugh at this, America joining in heartedly. He didn't like talking about the Revolution but he did have some fond memories of the soldiers. It was simple back then, where the worst thing you could be hit with was a cannon ball. Now they had bombs, nerves gas, grenades, and even poisonious gas. How he wished they could go back to fighting the old way, he got to interact with the soldiers more than now. He missed this, talking with the soldiers like they were one big family.

"Who else have you met Mister Jones?" Another guy asks, piping up.

America grins, "I've met so many people since I was found in the Wilderness when the colonies came over here." He grins, "It may take a while to tell about them all, name somebody, I might know them."

That night, Foxtrot never went to sleep, instead listening to America's stories from all time periods. Somebody had tried to take Texas, thinking they were regular glass, claiming that America was blind. America then had to explain that they were Texas and what his curl ontop of his head was. The guys listened for hours, content with their night. As far as they were concered, Alfred F Jones was part of Foxtrot Company. And they always helped out their comrades. America laughs, claiming he didn't need any help but thanked them for the offer. They asked about the other nations and America was more than happy to tell them stories about the other nations.

**Sorry my computer and wrist have been mean to me lately, I think they are conspiriing against me. (Shifty eyes) But anyway, here is the next chapter. Poor America, a terrible night mare, could it be an omen for things to come? Only time will tell, at least he is getting along with the soilders, right? Right? Well, thank you for reading and hope I'm doing a good job on this story. Oh and did you know the other day, we did have pasta for dinner? I hate so say Italy was so happy, he..**

**Mixalis: He ate too much and got sick and now Germany's out for our pelts!**

**Keiko: Yeah, what she said.**

**Mixalis: I told you not to let him eat too much! Now we are dead! DEAD I TELL YOU! (Grabs Keiko by the front of her shirt) If Russia doesn't hurry up and get over here to protect us we will DIE!**

**Keiko: I don't see why you are so worried about this.**

**Mixalis: O_O He will shoot us, execution style for this! Ya bai, Ya bai, Ya bai! I'm going to die....ya bai!**

**Keiko: Its not that bad, Mixa. Besides, we have America on our side.**

**Mixalis: (Glares) It is bad, we are on the hit list of Germany and probally even Prussia. I want to keep my vital regions UNCLAIMED.**

**Keiko: Mixa, you are over reacting, calm down.**

**Mixalis: (Not listening to Keiko anymore) What if Romano gets the Mafia after us, eep! (Faints onto floor) I'm a dead cat... (Groans)**

**Keiko: Um, well...at least she's calm now. Weird, usually I act like that....I blame Vodka. But back to the story, I wanted to have a guy with a historical background in the story so that's why one of the soldiers has a relative that is none other than John Howard. Here is some info about John Howard, ve.**

**John Eager Howard, father of Benjamin Chew Howard, a Delegate and a Senator from Maryland; was instructed by private tutors; served throughout the Revolutionary War, beginning as a captain and holding the rank of colonel when peace was declared; was voted a medal and the thanks of Congress for gallantry at the Battle of Cowpens, Member of the Continental Congress Governor of Maryland **

**Keiko: (Jumps up and down, clapping hands) I'm learning, btw, the chapters will get longer as soon as my wrist acts right, stupid hand. **

**Germany: ****Kommen Sie hier cat** (Come here cat)

**Keiko: (Looks worriedly at Germany and grins worriedly) Um...hi... (Looks in fear at Mixalis) RUN RUN AWAY!**

******Germany: Wieder hierher zu kommen** (Come back here!) **Du verletzt Italien** (You hurt Italy!) 

**Keiko: Aiuto! (HELP!)**

**Russia dashes after them. **

**Russia: Become with Russia da.**


	5. Germany's Regret

Germany sighs, laying back in his cell. He didn't care about the cops making fun of him, he was just glad the war was over for him. He could stop fighting, he could relax those tired muscles of his. He only had one regret, hurting Italy like he did. He was remembering the day he lost, wondering what would happen to him now. He didn't regret giving up, the fighting had stopped and he was able to rest his back, the camps had done their damage to the nation. He had given up but it didn't surreneder to America or the others, he was too proud for that. Germany wasn't defeated by them ethier, instead he gave up to Italy. Italy had given up three years ago, forced to by his new boss. His new boss made him join with the Allies, leaving Germany alone with Kiku. Italy didn't want to go, wanting to stay with Germany but he had no choice. Romano was pleased that their boss had made Italy come to his senses, leaving Germany alone with Japan. When Hitler had found out, he didn't like it at all, not one bit. His instructions were firm, kill Italy, no mercy was allowed. Germany knew he couldn't bring himself to kill Italy, but left to do the terrible deed. He remebered the day, as if it was just yesterday. Germany had beat Italy up terribly, still not realising his boss had died three days before.

_Italy gulps, shaking as him and Germany face off. They were both tired, having been fighting for hours. Italy felt horrible, not wanting to fight agaisnt his friend, Germany. Germany growls, tears coming to his eyes. Italy was covered with bruises, from Germany's attacks. Italy backs up, getting ready to run away from the fight. Germany senses this and rushes forward. He aims his gun at Italy missing the Italian by mere inches as Italy dashes away from the bullet, coming up behind Germany. Italy was ducking and dodging, clutching his own gun in his hand, not intending to use it. Germany was his friend, he couldn't hurt Germany, even if Germany was trying to hurt him. Germany comes in low, hitting Italy in the chin with his elbow. The nation's head flings back, the force of the punch lifting him into the air. Italy yells in pain and tumbles to the ground, his gun flying out of his hands. He lays on the ground, Germany pointing his gun directaly at Italy. Italy looks wide eyed up at Germany, the nation cocking back the firing pin. His eyes start to water, Germany pointing his gun at his chest. Italy was trembling, knowing this was the end. He couldn't bring himself to shoot Germany with the gun he had given him. Italy closes his eyes, preparing to feel the bullet enter him at any moment. Suddenly he hears the shot and yells, but he doesn't feel anything, freezing in surprise. He opens his eyes and looks in shock as he sees Germany sobbing, the gun pointed towards the ground, a small hole where the bullet entered._

_"Germany." Italy says, seeing tears pouring down Germany's face, his hands trembling, still clasping the gun tightly._

_"Italy, why won't you defend yourself?" He says, looking up at Italy._

_He steps back and kicks the gun towards Italy, motioning for him to pick up the weapon. He didn't want to kill Italy, he couldn't do it. Italy looks in shock at Germany and then the gun. He trembles, not able to move, tears threatening the corner of his eyes now._

_"Pick it up, protect yourself." Germany says, his vision blurring from the tears._

_"I can't Germany. I don't want to hurt you. If Hitler says to kill me..." Italy kicks the gun away from him. Germany holds back a sob, looking as Italy was giving up so easily. He didn't want this. Heck, he didn't want any of it. He wanted Italy back, he didn't want to kill him. Italy takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he bows his head, "__Poi mi ucciderà. (Then kill me)__ I don't want Hitler to hurt you, and if you have to kill me so he won't, then go ahead." he says, clenching his fists in the dirt under him. "I can't make myself pull the trigger, as you said, I'm not made for war, so take me out of it. I don't want to fight anymore." He admits, Germany staring at shock at Italy, speechless. Italy waits for the shot, hoping he would see the Holy Roman Empire again, and his Grandpa Rome. It would be nice to see them again, he was ready now, no regrets. Nothing happens to Italy's surprise. Italy looks up, "Germany..."_

_"Why won't you attack me?!" He yells out, almost sobbing. "I could've killed you right then...." He tosses his gun to the ground, "__Ich kann es nicht__, __Hitler kann zur Hölle fahren!(I can't do this, Hitler can go to hell!)" He claims, walking up to Italy and helping him up. "I can't hurt you." He claims._

_"Ve?! Germany you can't, if..." Italy stops, seeing Germany reach behind him and open up his gun case on his back, pulling something out. "Don't do it, Hitler will..."_

_Germany looks up at Italy, waving the white flag that Italy gave him when he first became Germany's ally, "I give up." He claims._

_Italy shakes his head, "No, you can't give up. Japan is still fighting with you, don't give up. If you do they'll charge you with War Crimes. Non farlo Deutschland per favore. (Don't do it Germany, please.)"_

_Germany sighs, "I'll be fine Italy, I'm just tired. My land has had enough, the camps have hurt me just as much as they've hurt everybody else. I'm tired of war, Felciaino, I just want it to be over with. Russia has already captured Prussia, only god knows what he is doing to him and I'm weak Italy. The inbreeding of my people, it's made me sick, I'm not strong anymore Italy. If Japan is smart he will give up soon too, ok." Germany says, "I will be just fine Felciaino."_

_Italy rushes up to Germany and hugs him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I should've stayed with you Ludwig, to help you. I promised I'd help you out of a pinch and now look. You needed help and I was unable to give it." He says, Germany hugging him back._

_"Don't apologize, I should've stopped this before it got this bad." He says._

Germany sighs, sitting up and looking at the cell door, wondering how Italy was since that day. He hoped he was happy and wasn't in trouble. He wouldn't be able to help Italy now that he was in prison. He was patiently awaiting the day of the trails, evidently he was now owned by America, France, and England; his whole goverment taken over by the nations. Russia had laid claim to Prussia, dividing up his house. Germany sighs, trying to forget that he was seprate from Prussia now, instead wondering when Japan was going to give up. Surely by now Japan knew that he had been captured, why hadn't the nation given up yet? He lays back, maybe he had taught him too well, that guy might never give up.

"Kiku, just give up before something bad happens." Germany says, hoping his voice could reach to his friend.

**This chapter was so short, I decided to upload it early, it was supposed to be in the other chapter but I forgot to add it. Sorry. He is supposed to be in an Italian Jail, but I couldn't find any information that was good. So I didn't describe the ajil, he is of course in solitary confinement. Poor guy. This also has a rewrite called How To Save A Life, you can read it if you want to, basically its this chapter put to the song. It made me cry. Aiddo.**


	6. Trinity

**Sorry, have to explain a few things I didn't explain last time. To Red Roses2, yes you can put cool water on burns but not Cold water. America had been flung into cold water and you aren't supposed to put water on big burns, like he had from the explosion. Thanks for the question though. Oh and If you want me to talk about Prussia's condition please read and review. I'm thinking of an idea for him, he might....better shut up now. Well, here is the next chapter of I'm the Villian. Enjoy.**

**4 August 1945, 9:00 am, Washington DC**

America yawns, dark circles under his eyes. It was 0900 hours and he was on his way to the White House, being transported by Private Stark, the Foxtrot cadet having no problem in carrying America to Washington DC. It was only a few miles from Andrew Air Force Base, and he had had the most sleep out of all of the Foxtrot cadets. America looks around at his capital, grinning sleepily at his heart town. He couldn't believe that this is were it all started, the place he met England. America shakes the thoughts away, looking at Stark, his wild hair blowing in the wind.

"'Yawn'....Thanks Private Stark, I don't know how to repay you for this."America says, adjusting Texas on his face.

Stark laughs, "America, I live to serve my nation, its no big deal." He explains, "Besides, you look like you would get lost if we let you walk to the White House." He chuckles and continues down the road. "Anyway, as far as me and the rest of the guys say, you are a Foxtrot cadet."

America laughs, "Call me Alfred, please." He looks at the road infront of them, "Ah, so I'm part of the Foxtrot troup now...More like the Freedom troup, eh." He grins, remembering his middle name. Alfred F. Jones, the F for Freedom of course.

Stark looks at America, "You know, I like that. The Freedom Troup, it has a ring to it. I'll suggest it to the guys, I'm sure they like the name too." He grins, stopping at a red light.

America grins, "Of course they will." America leans back in the Jeep, closing his eyes, "I miss being able to hang out with guys like you and your troup."

Stark sighs, "You know, you can always come back anytime, Foxtrot looks out for each other, Alfred." He pats America on the back, shaking his shoulder slightly.

Stark pushes the gas, the jeep driving under the green light. America nods and leans back, the wind tossing his hair around, Nantucket waving in the breeze. He hoped that Truman wouldn't be too mad at him for being a whole day late. He was sure everything would be alright and that the meeting would have went smoothly without him being there. His other presidents made good choices, he didn't need to be there for all important decisions. He starts to drift to sleep when Stark taps him, making the nation come back into the world with a start. He groans, looking embarassed at Stark who just shakes his head and keeps driving. They arrive onto 1600 Pennsylviania avenue, Stark slowing the Jeep to a stop.

"Alright Alfred. Try and stay awake when talking to Truman." He jokes, punching America in the shoulder.

America laughs, jumping out of the jeep, not bothering to use the door, "Haha, I'm just fine. I've stayed up for three days straight at one time, this isn't nothing." He asures him, bouncing around slightly, looking like he was ready to fight, fists pupping. America stops, yawning loudly before standing at attention.

"Says the guy who looks like he's about to slump off at the drop of a hat." Starks says as America sallutes him, "And remember, you always have a home with Foxtrot!" He sallutes back.

Amercia nods and grins big, "Yeah, I know." He says, breaking formation and leaning back, his hands behind his head. He felt like goofing off today, but he had to see his boss. After all, he was a whole day late.

He waves as Stark starts up the Jeep, driving off. America sighs, letting himself relax. He never felt so good, being back on his own land, it felt like heaven after being in England's land for the last few years. It felt good to be home, the nation not feeling out of place. People may not know who he is but he was glad to be back with them. He looks beyond the gate, seeing the White House in all its glory. He smiles, he was proud to be America. Sure, he may have almost been dead because of the Great Depression but the war had surprisingly spiked his economy back up and he was better than ever, and loved his land more than ever. He walks up to the gate, grinning in ammusement as he spots Frank, the Secret Service guy that was in charge of looking after the President and evidently babysitting America. America and Frank never got along because of this, America one time repling to Frank's command with a 'Yes, mom.' Frank notices him and groans, knowing today he was going to be annoyed to death by the nation walking towards him.

"Mr. Jones you are late, by almost a day. May I ask why?" He growls out, glaring at America.

"Ah, don't worry about it Frank. I forgot all about the Time Zones is all, I'm here now, right?" He grins, patting Frank's back, the officer twitching as America laughs, "Ah, Frank, you are too tense. Call me Alfred."

Frank glares at him, "This way Mr. Jones." He says, leading America through the gate.

America sighs, him and Frank never could get along. Seems he despised the person but not the nation, or who knows, Frank might just hate his own country. Frank leads him towards the White House, waving off the gaurds at the door. America sighs, bracing himself for waht he knew was going to be the scolding of his life. If he thought England was bad, he had another thing coming all together. Frank opens the door, walking into the Cermonial Entry hall, America looking at the paintings in the hall. He remember when he helped build this place, it had taken them 8 years, even with his help. He felt accomplished afterwards, finally having a place where his leader could stay. The capital of his Country, his heart, he thought was the perfect place to put it. They enter the center hall and Frank points to the right.

"Truman is in the Library, you do know where the Library is, Mr. Jones?" Frank says, eyeing America as if he was a troublesome kid.

America growls lowly, "Of course I know where the Library is, I helped build this place before your Great-great-great-Grandfather was even around." He replies, smirking at Frank.

Frank eyes him coldly before walking down the opposite hall. America groans, "I swear these guys act so...so...secretive." America chuckles at his own joke.

Frank freezes turning around, "Do you find me funny Mister Jones?" He says, glaring at America.

America jumps and waves his hands in front of him, chuckling nerviously, "No..no..I'm not laughing at you...never you..heh." Frank eyes him once more before continuing down the hall, America sighing in relief. He groans, looking at Frank, "He really needs to lighten up."

America sighs and turns and looks to the left, seeing the door at the end of hall. He sighs, Truman definatly wasn't going to be happy at all. He begins walking down the hall towards the Library. As he's walking another of the World State TNP comes to mind. Rule Number Four: Leaders.

****

You may be a nation but that doesn't mean you are in charge of your land. Leaders are put there for a reason, to keep you on the straight and narrow path. You are to obey them without question, no matter what they do. If they declare War on your best friend you have to pick up the sword and face him. If they say jump, you jump. A nation should never question his or her leader's actions, just follow through with it. We are nations, tools for our leaders to use as they see fit, and we are to listen to our Leader's every word and follow it. A nation is to never disobey his Leader, no matter what.

America grins, hoping he didn't look as tired as he felt. He pushes open the door, spotting Truman sitting at a chair, looking out the window. Truman looks back, spotting America and sighing as he closes the book in his lap. America bows respectivly to his boss, hoping he wouldn't be to mad for his absence.

"Alfred." Truman growls out. America whinces, he was mad. "Why did you not come to the meeting yesterday?"

America straightens himself, "Sorry sir. I was at another meeting and I completely forgot about the Time Zones. As soon as I realised that I was late I rushed over here on my plane as fast as I could, not realising till I landed that you would be asleep." America rubs the back of his head, smiling slightly.

Truman sighs, "No need to apologise, Alfred. We continued on with the meeting, and we've come to an agreement."

America looks in surprise, "An agreement?"

Truman nods, "This solution will stop the war in its tracks, ending the fighting indefently."

America looks shock, "The war will end?! Wow! T-That's..That's great. So this means no more fighting, right?!" America sits down in the chair beside him, looking at Truman, wondering exactly what his boss had came up with.

Truman nods, "Yes. Hundreds of young American soliders lives will be saved with this sollution."

America grins, "That's great news, so what's this sollution?" He says, excited to hear more.

Truman looks at America, "We are going to bomb the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, to end the war once and for all." Truman states, America looking confused.

He sits back, trying to figure out what Truman had just told him. He had been with England during the V-2 bombings and it wasn't that big of a deal. Sure it hurt like hell, but he was up and fighting the next day, with only cuts and scrapes. England only wore the bandages to keep himself from getting infected. He didn't understand what good it would do to attack Japan with bombs, he would be up and fighting the next day. America looks at Truman, leaning forward in his chair.

"Wait...how will bombing Japan end the war? England got bombed by Germany many times and he's still fighting, though he's a little sore..." America begins.

Truman clears his throat, interrupting the nation, "No, Alfred, these aren't ordinary bombs. We are going to bomb Japan with...Atomic bombs." Truman states.

The floor drops from under the nation, shocked at the words just told to him. America had heard about the Atomic bombs from Leo Szilard, an escaped Jew that had ran from Germany's land. Szilard had described in detail what would happen if an Atomic bomb was to be set off. It was like the combined effects of a hundred suns put into a deadly device. If the explosion didn't kill you the radation would slowly. America had known that they had been working on the Manhattan Project but that they were stuck at how to exactly build it. When America had been told this he shuddered at what would happen if it was completed and used on another nation. Now the nightmare was happening, right before his eyes. America is so stunded he can't even speak, which is unusual for him. He studders incohernetly.

"Atomic Bombs? ATOMIC BOMBS!!! Are you crazy?!" America shakes his head in disbelief, unable to take in this horrible information. Nothing had ever went against America's morals so much as what his leader had just told him. He was frozen, trying to see if he heard the President right. He final snaps back to himself, "No, you can't. If you bomb Japan that would k-kill hundreds if not thousands of innocent people. Plus Japan wouldn't be able to recover from the radiation, and its not his fault that we're in a war!! You can't do this, I don't care if you're my leader, this is WRONG! Germany has already surrendered and so has Italy, its only a matter of time before Japan surrenders too. Just give him some time, and call off the bomb!!"

Truman shakes his head, "There's no changing my mind, Alfred. Besides, this is the for the best, hundreds of American lives would be sparred."

"But what about the lives of the Japanese?! Those are huge cities, filled with thousands of innocent people. Its not right, its not-" America yells, trying desperately to change his boss's mind.

"Was the Bombing of Pearl Harbor right, Alfred?" Truman interupts America again.

America whinces, the bombing still fresh in his mind. He subconsiously puts his hand over the scar across his chest, caused from the attack of Pearl Harbor. He himself was there that fateful day, he had got the scar from being sliced by the jagged wall he was flung into. Any more to right and he would've been stabbed throught the heart. He was burned and shot at, and thrown into cold water, putting him into shock. You don't run cold water over large burns, especially first degree burns. The result was a few weeks in the hospital before heading to England's home to help in the war, leaving a long scar straight across his chest. He told no one of the scar, claiming that he was nowhere near Pearl Harbor durning the attack, but at home. No one questioned this, and left him alone.

He growls, "NO, but at least the Japanese didn't attack the citizens on the island but kept their fight with the fort."

Truman turns his back on America, "Alfred, there's no changing my mind. The first bomb, Little Boy, is heading to Hiroshima on August the 6."

Dread fills America's mind, "But...that's..."

Truman nods, "Monday. Two days from now."

America sits down, shocked. He couldn't believe this was happening, this went against everything he believed and fought for. Was he still asleep, he had to have fallen asleep on the way to the White House. Yeah, that was it, it had to be it, a terrible horrible dream. This must be a continuation of the dream from last night, any minute Japan would come out of nowhere and attack him. He was sure of it, right, right? Truman continues, standing up and walking around the stunded nation.

"Besides, Alfred, the bombs were supposed to be for Germany, but they surrenedered easily after Hitler died. We've already tested a bomb, in New Mexico, far away from any towns so as to not affect them. Its operational and is everything we've hoped for. This is the best, for all of us." Truman says, putting his hand on America' shoulder, he sighs, "Tommorrow I'm anouncing the approved use of the Atomic Bomb against Japan."

America growls, leaping away from his boss as if he was acid, "Its not the best for Kiku! He'll die if you attack those points on him, its basically death blows! Especially Nagasaki! This is wrong, Mr. President, and you know it! This isn't like me, this isn't like the United States. There is no justice in this, only evil!" He twitches, he remebered that around July the 26 his right wrist had pained him horribly, but he took no notice to it. His own boss had tested the bomb on him! America wondered if he had some radiation poisoning from the test, now a little more than paranoid about the subject.

Truman stands up, "Listen here, America. If you wanted your opinion to be known you should've came to the meeting. Now, if you would be so kind as to leave, Mr. Jones."

America growls as he sees Frank walk in, all to eager to drag him out. "I'll escort my OWN self, thank you." He growls out, pushing past Frank, almost flinging the guy into the wall in his anger. "If you won't stop it, I will."

He slams the door, the slam echoing through the small Library, a few of the shelves rocking slightly. Truman sighs, sitting down in a chair. Frank growls, glaring at the door. Nobody pushed him out of the way, he didn't care if it was America. He looks up as Truman sighs.

"I shouldn't have told him. He's too naive, believeing everybody should have a second chance. He might go and try to destroy the bombs, go warn Andrew Air Force Base to not let Mr. Jones leave the Country until after the attack." Truman says.

Frank grins and nods, "My pleasure, Mr. President." He says, picking up the phone.

**Just a few points I need to point out. This is how I imagine depressions of land. Instead of the nation getting depressed, I imagine that their blood pressure drops dramatically, and that the great depression almost killed America. After all, the economy is the lifeblood of a country, what keeps it running, so why not lower their vital signs. **

**Oh and for those of you who don't know what 'Foxtrot' comes from, its the military's sort of code for the alphabet. A for Alpha, B for Bravo, C for Charlie, and others. Foxtrot stands for F. Police use this code too, like my brother in law. **

**Leo Szilard was the person who first worked on the idea of the Atomic bomb, not Enstein or any other person. He was the original person who came up with the idea. I will have correct my History teacher for I looked this up, and studied it throughly. **

**I know that Atomic bombs weren't feared back them, but probally the people who were told about it were terrified of it. I actually learned that Germany tried to develop the bombs at first but they couldn't get it to work right, so of course the US tries to build it, thinking that Germany had tons of bombs like it, when in fact they had none. So, left with two bombs which they couldn't do anything with, they decided to use it to attack Japan and end the war. The bomb they dropped in New Mexico was called Trinity, btw.**

**Mixalis: Oh My G. O_o?? You are..t...teaching?**

**Keiko: (Looks at Aurthor's notes) I... I am....Oh god. :3 YATTA! I'm actually learning from writting Fanfiction. I feel accomplished!**

**Mixalis: Wow. Just...wow. (Looks at Russia) Oh, thanks for rescuing Keiko.**

**Russia: (Smiles) No problem, commrade.**

**Keiko: (Shudders) Remind me never to get you mad. (looks back to what happened to Germany)**

**Russia: (Grins) Well, Mixalis is good friend of mine, she hates England as much as I do, and she loves Vodka as much as I do, da.**

**Keiko: Yes, I'm well aware of this.**

**Russia: Good, then drink, Vodka is good, da. (He gets glint in his eye, Keiko yelping)**

**Keiko: Ok, ok. I'll drink, I'll drink.**

**Mixalis: Yeah, Keiko, drink up, to actually learning from writing once in your life.**

**2 hours later**

**Keiko: (Sobbing and hugging Mixalis's leg) And...And then I was hunted down by Ed, ED. I mean I was (Sniff) Only a cub but still, Why did Scar want to eat me? I'm a freaking cheetah for fuck's sake! (Cries more)**

**Mixalis: (Groans) No-more-Vodka-for-you.**

**Next Morning**

**Shivering under blanket**

**Keiko: I want to die, I'll never drink again, NEVER! I swear. I quit I tell you, only Lagers.**

**Italy: (Looks at Mixalis) Ve? What's that? (points at shivering blanket)**

**Mixalis: Keiko.**

**(I know, sue me, been wanting to do that with Keiko. Thats how I felt after *I* tried Vodka the second time. Never again.)**


	7. Dreaded Feelings

America tears through Washington DC. He wasn't having it. His own boss had used him as a Lab Rat, bombing New Mexico. Sure it wasn't anywhere near a city, it was still enough to leave his arm hurting like hell for a few days. He needed to find the bomb. But where would his peopl hide the bomb? He needed help. Would it be....no, it wouldn't be in Hawaii, Pearl Harbor still in th minds of his people. Would in be in area 51? No, too easy. H groans, he wouldn't be able to find them in time to stop it before Monday. He turns down a street, dashing in between two people, them yelling in anger as America accidently knocks a hotdog out of one of their hands. He continues running, heading towards the Air Base. He needed to get in the air before they would come after him. He knew, even if Truman didn't do anything, Frank would, and he would have the Military police after his tail. America dashes past the gaurd to the base, the gaurd yelling at him to stop. He growls as the ation doesn't stop, grabbing the radio.

"We have a breach, I repeat, a breach." He says.

_"What does the subject look like?"_ The voice on the other end says.

Private Samuel is sitting beside Sergeant Herman as he answers the radio. The gaurd replies back, "_Well, sir. He has blonde hair, blue eyes, a brown coat with the number 50 painted on the back. He's also wearing glasses."_

Samuel gets ready to reply that it was just Alfred Jones, when Sergeant Herman sighs, "We just got a call about him from the White House, don't let him get a plane! Take him out."

Samuel looks in shock, the White House had called a hit on America? What had the world come to? The gaurd nods and sounds the alarm, America picking up speed as he feels them start to chase him. Private Stark and Howard were getting ready to enjoy a nice lunch when the alram goes off. Stark groans, sitting down his MRE.

"What is it now?" Stark replies.

Howards shrugs, "A breach of somesort, we better go out there." He grabs his helmet and dashes out, Stark joining him.

As they arrive outside they see America dash past, a group of soldiers after him. They look at each other in surprise, before dashing after them. America is way ahead of them , dashing towards his fighter plane. He hoped it had enough fuel to get him across the Atlantic. Id\f it didn't, he would swim the rest of the way. He knocks out the sldier on duty and hops into the cockpit, turning the key to start it up. The eh\ngine starts up, the propeller starting with a jerking movement.

"He's getting away!" One soldier yells.

Another soldier pulls out his pistol, aimming it at America, the nation's heart dead in his sights. Howard notices this and remebers what America had told them last night. _'We have all the weaknesses that humans do, able to be killed by a well placed bullet.'_ Howard yells and rushes at the soldier, tackling him as he fires. America yells in pain, Howard looking up in horror, thinking that his nation had just died. America yells as he feels the hot lead pierce though his shoulder. He ignores the pain and starts the plane down the runway, taking off into the sky. Howards sighs in relief, seeing America was ok, Stark letting out the breath he had been holding. Howard yelps as the downed soldier under him pushes him off of him, glaring at Howard.

"Why did you do that, I had him in my sights!" The Corpral yells.

Howard growls, picking himself up, "You almost killed America, you bastard, just ask the Generals and Sergeants around here!"

A few Of the Sergeanst dash up, looking at the group of soldiers. A Sergeant Major dashes up, looking pissed off, "Who shot?" He looks frantically at the group of soldiers, "Who shot at him?" He says, his eyes wide in anger.

The Corproal steps forward, "I did, I almost ad him when Private Howard tackeled me to the ground." He points at Howard, not noticing the rest of the Sergeants looking worried at what he had just said. The Sergeant Major's eyes go wide as the Corproal is stilll oblivious to the change in attitude of the higher ups. "He's claiming the unbelievable, that the guy that took off with the plane was America. I think we should send him to Solitary confindement." He smirks at Howard as Howard growls at him. The Sergeant Major looks in shock and groans, slapping his forehead in worry, "You almost killed America? SHIT....." He walks up to the Corproal grabbing him by the front of his uinform, "Did you hit him, please tell me you didn't hit him."

The Corproal's world drops rom under him, seeing the fear in the Sergeant Major's eyes, "Wait...that was...AMERICA? America is human?" He yelps out.

The Sergeant Major shakes him, "Did...you...hit...him?" He growls out. The Corproal nods, the Sergeant Major growling and kicking the ground, walking away from the Corproal, "Who knows what's going to happen now, DAMN'T!"

The group looks at the disappearing form of the plane, Ameica groaning in pain as his coat starts to turn red from the blood coming from his shoulder. Meanwhile, somewhere in Camp Butner, North Carolina, a certain German prisoner of war, Kurt Rossmeisl, escapes from his cell.

**Quick note: I'm believe if a nation is hurt from something other than another nation or an event happenening to there country, that injury makes something (Weather big or small) go wrong. In this instance, it allowed Kurt Rossmeisl escape. He did escape on the 4 of August. I checked it out. Its amazing what old newspapers can do for you.**

Japan looks up from the leaflets that had been falling over his country, warning them of more attacks from the US Airforce. The American Airforce hated this war just as much as he did and at least warnned them of an attack. But still...he groans, tweleve more cities were to be attacked? This was getting out of control, and he was growing weaker. He balls up the paper, tossing it behind him. He freezes, a ensation stopping the nation in his tracks. The General with him looks at Japan worried about him.

"General Kiku? Are you?" The General asks.

"Hai, I'm fine." He says, feeling far from it.

He was feeling dread, tons of it hanging over him. Something was wrong. It was like he had a timer above his head and it was ticking quickly to zero, foretelling something horrible. It wasn't the forecasted attack on tweleve of his cities, that he knew, it was something much worse. He wondered why Germany hadn't been responding to his calls, hoping he was ok. he ignores the hair rasing up on the back of his neck and follows after the general, entering the building. He looks around at the other army personel in the room, sitting down.

"Any news on Germany yet?" Japan asks, looking at theothers. He was real worried about Germany, haven't heard from him since May, and here it was August.

A soldier stands up and nods, "Yes, it has been confirmed, they have surrenedered and General Ludwig is being kept as a POW."

Japan looks up, "And Prussia?"

Another one looks down, "A POW also, in Russia apparantly."

Japan sighs, everybody was being defeated around him, and he didn't know how much longer he and his country could survive against the armies of America, and the others. The soldiers continue, "Today in Singapore, some of our troops excuted some American Airmen this morning."

Japan looks up, "Oh, I see.." He was flinching on the inside, hating what war did to people, "Any news from the other countries?"

They shake their heads, "We weren't able to retrieve anymore information today, General. " They look as Japan flinches again, the dread still hanging overhim, "General Kiku, are you sure you're ok?"

Japn nods, "Yeah, just a chill, it will pass." He says, shuddering.

They nod, continuing on with thier plans, "Alright men, tonight we will go to the Bonin Islands. We are to bomb the USAAF base that those Americans have put up there. Show no mercy, make sure you bomb the warehouse, railroad yard, marshalling yard and anything else that may cripple the base. We need to keep the Westerners from winning this war at all costs, understand?" The General says.

"Hai." They all announce, Japan nodding wearily.

They leave the tent, Japan standing up as well and heading out. He looks aound the base, seeing all the young soldiers. He wished them luck, hoping they would be protected in battle. AMerica and him use to be friends, and now they were at war. he sighs, America problly blamed him for the Peral Harbor attack. He probally hatted him, and Japan didn't want that. Japan didn't even know about it until after it had happened, in shock that his people had attacked America's lands first. America wasn't to badly injured from the attack but his boss was so mad that AMerica entered the war. Now America was giving them a run for their money, bombings happening daily almost. Japan's body ached, a side effect of the USAAF attacking him over and over again. He wasn't as bad off as England though, German's V-2 Bombs doing permeant daage to the nation. From what he had heard, England still hadn't recovered yet. He grins, trying to look strong for the soldiers who fought for him, almost none of them knowing who he was in reality, but knowing he was a General, and somebody of great respect. He steps on a flyer, not knowing what danger was in store for him.

888

England sits in the meeting room, absentmindedly scratching his banadages. He hated these things, they were always in his way. He groans, it was almost 1600 hours and Nobody had came to the meeting yet. Well, Canada was there but England didn't notice him, too busy glaring at the banadages. He stops, hearing China enter the room. England sighs, sitting up and straightening his posture, and leaving his banadages alone. China would absloutely kill him if he saw him messing with his banadages.

"Hullo Yao." England says.

"Hello, Arthur, are you in a better mood today, aru?" China asks.

England nods, "Yeah..." He sighs, "But I haven't heard from Alfred eyt."

China sighs sitting down beside England, "Aiyah, he'll be fine." He say, patting England's back, "He's still probably talking to his boss, after all, he has to get debreifed." China says, smiling.

England nods, "Yeah, I kn-" He freezes tensing up as a feeling deep inside of him courses through him.

China hops up, shaking England to try and get him out of his shock, his face horror stricken. Canada gets ready to comfort England as well, when he feels the same gut feeling Engalnd did, gasping in surprise. England looked as if he were in pain, China worried that his wounds had reopened.

"AIYAH! England, England! You ok? What's the matter, another bombing, aru?" China yells out.

England looks up at China, shaking his head, "No, I'm not hurt. Something's happened. I don't know what but something has happened...to Alfred. I haven't felt this way since the Peral Harbor incident." England says, Canada nodding in agreement,

They all knew about the bonds that nations shared, none better than England. Whenever happened to one of his former colonies, he felt it not as pain, but as a sixth sense. The same way was for all nations, as China explained in his rules. Rule Number Two: Other Nations.

**We have many different nations, all of who have invisible ties to one another. These feelings have yet to be explained as nothing but a pure sixth sense we nations have. Some nations have a stronger sixth sense than other nations, especially if they have a big family. The more ties, the stronger the sense. You can tell what another nation is going through or even if a young nation is a nation through this sense. Beware this sense, and never ignore it, it may help you warn a broher he is in danger or it may just save his life.**

China looks worried, "You don't think Japan bombed him, do you, aru?"

England groans, " I don't know, but..." He tries to concentrate, having the strngest sixth sense besides China amoung the nations. He gasps, "He's hurt, not bad, but he's hurt." He groans, "What happened at that meeting of his?"

Canada shrugs, "I hope he's ok.."

China groans, feeling dread as well, what was going on? WHat had happned in the past few hours that had this much effect on the nations? France walks in, spotting England looking like hell, his hands ruffled in his hair. He looks in wonder, what was going on? France sighs, Italy peeking into the room, from behind France. Italy sighs in relief as he doesn't see Russia.

"Hey, what is going on?" France asks, walking in, "Why is eveyone so tense, eh?"

Canada looks up at France, "We think Alfred might be hurt, eh."

France looks surprised, "Alfred, hurt?"

Italy looks surprised, never imagining AMerica to be hurt by anything. "What's going on?"

England sighs, "I don't know, if only he wasn't so bloody far away, I might be able to sense more." He sighs and mutters under his breath. "Alfred..."

France groans, "You still going on about that sixth sense of yours, heh? Alfred's probally fine, nobody believes in that WORLD PEACE TMP amy more. Its old news now calm down and lets start the meeting."

"Aiyah, don't talk badly about my rule book, its not old news, aru!" He says in his defense.

France waves China off, "Yeah, Yeah, where is Russia today anyway?"

The three shrug, looking around for the nation. Italy however was thankful that he wasn't there. Now he had no fear of being beat up.

England stands up, "I need to go to the states." He says.

China shakes his head, "No, Arthur, Francis, is right, somewhat. Alfred's probably not hurt that bad, aru."

England groans, "He's hurt, and in need of help. I need to see if he's ok."

Canada sighs, "He's still alive, or else you wouldn't be able to sense him."

England pauses, "Eh? Who are you?"

Canada sighs, he was use to it by now but he was tried of being forgotten. Maybe it was because England was so worried about America that he had just forgotten by accident. That had to be it, but still, he was a little annoyed.

He sighs, looking down, "I'm Canada, you know, Alfred's twin." He says.

England looks around confusedat first but then groans, looking at Canada, "Matthew.....I'm..I'm sorry."

"Its ok." Canada says, "I'm use to it."

England groans, standing up. He walks to the window, looking out on the darknening day, rain threatening from the clouds around them. He sighs, closing his eyes and putting his hand on the glass, balling it into a fist. _Alfred, you better come back alive or else I'll kill you myself._ France walks up to him, putting his hand on his shoulder. England gasps but doesn't move, opening his eyes. France shakes him slightly, trying to get hi atention.

"Arthur." He says, seeing how upset England and Canad were, "I'm sure he's alright, ok. He'll be here soon, oui?"

England sighs, "I hope so." He looks back at the window, hoping France was right.

**Alrightthis is thenext chapter of I'm the Villian. I'm pleased to see how many people have faved this stroy. Its even revailing my other popular story, Away From The Sun. I think it might actually beat it soon. Keep up with the favs. Oh, I have a poll on my Profile of which story I should write next and I have a lot of Hetalia story ideas up there. Vote for the ones you like the best, you can choose up to 4. The info is in my profile on each story so vote now. I hope I as actuarte in thei cahpter. I added bits of History in it, incluing the flers. They actually did drop fle\yers warning of an attack. And the bombing of Bonin Islands as well. Oh, thenexy chapter will have Prussia. I just can't leave him out, he's too awesome, ve. Well, enjoy this chapter, and keep up with th reviews. Oh and anon, I liked your review, it is a better argue ment than what I had. I wish I could have put that in there, It made more sense. ANd thank you, if you have any suggestions on the history or what events I should include in here jus PM me, and I;m thinking of having a squeal to this with the Berlin wall. Thank you all fo your support. Grazie! Danke! Thank you, and Aido!**


	8. Project Freedom

**I appologise for the spelling of last chapter. My computer kept logging of the iternet everytime I typed it up, and I just got so tried of typing it back up. Hopefully I will have a beta soon for my Hetalia stories. I'm still new to the Beta, so I'm trying. I myself have a Beta for my other story for Away From The Sun as well, Sora Tayuya. I can't thank her enough, hopefully it will help me with my spelling mistakes, most of them were due to me not even looking at what I was typing up and trying to hit the backspace, (Which is near the \ button), plus being up at 3 in the morning typing these didn't help at all. So once again, I appologise for my mistakes last chapter. This chapter will be better, I promise, plus, it has the Awesome in it! XD Oh, and for some reason Fanfiction has gotten rid of all my * so I'm replacing them with 8's which is the same button just in case they get rid of the * again. Does anybody know why its doing that?**

Prussia sighs, leaning his head back in the small holding cell, his chair leaning back on two legs. How could he have let himself be captured and _owned_ by Russia? He was Prussia, and nobody held Prussia against his will and gets away with it, not by a long shot. He looks up at the flickering light of the cell, annoying the nation to no end. Even now he had a headache because of the constant flickering. He closes his eyes, willing the pain to go away. Gilbird was on top of his head, fluffing his feathers out as he snuggled deeper into the nation's silver locks. Prussia sighs, thinking about his brother, Germany. He was under lock and key of the Allies, owned by America, England, and France. At least they would take better care of his brother than Russia was treating him. Prussia himself had raised America, helping him in his revolution from England. America wouldn't treat Germany badly, however Russia had already made it known to Prussia that he wasn't going to see any kindness from the tall nation. Prussia didn't want any either, instead wanting to kill Russia. Prussia gasps, pulled out of his thoughts as the room goes dark. He yells in surprise as the chair falls back, his head slamming into the cell floor. Gilbird flies to safety, waking up as Prussia fell back. He flies to a safe place as Prussia's head hits the ground, a loud thud echoing throughout the small room along with the clatter of the chair.

"Scheiße!" He yells out, grabbing his head in pain and rolling off of the chair's back. "Great, the light went off now, what else coul-" He stops, a small light shining in his face.

Still on the floor he opens his eyes and turns his head, spotting a small hole under the door to the cell. He sits up, slidding over to the door and putting his hand infront of the hole. He smirks, it wasn't an hallucination, there was a hole in the door, big enough to squeeze his fist through. He reaches his hand through, feeling the cold air on the otherside of the door, smirking in ammusement. This was his chance to get out, he just had to think of a way to use this hole to his advantage. He grins, getting an idea. Make the hole bigger. He grabs the edge of the hole and braces one foot on the door, and pulls. He was hoping to either make the hole big enough to reach his arm through or, break the door completely. The door didn't budge, Prussia not having enough strength to even break off a small piece. He growls, pulling his hand back through the opening and folding his arms across his chest. That didn't go like he wanted it to.

"Ugh, I thought that would've worked." He feels something land on his head, looking up at Gilbird, smirking as he thought of another plan, "Hey, Gilbird."

Gilbird perks up, chripping in response, "You think you could fit through there?" Prussia asks, pointing at the small hole.

Gilbird hops down, Prussia knealing down beside Gilbird and the hole. Gilbird flaps his wings briefly before checking out the small hole. He of course could fit through it, with room to spare but, there was dangers involved with venturing from the safety of the cell. He chirps at Prussia, hopping closer to the hole and tilting his head to the side.

Prussia sighs, "Russia isn't out there, we would've felt his presence earlier. I don't feel him, do you?" The bird shakes his head and disappears through the opening, Prussia holding his breath in fear. He hears a chrip from he otherside, sighing in relief, "Gut, gut, (Good, good) do you see any keys?" He asks, his hand twitching.

Gilbird looks around the dungeon like prison. It had a short hall, with about six cells, three on each side of the hall, all of them empty. They all had bars, unlike Prussia's cell which was enclosed, and no light able to pour in except through thesmall hole in the door. Gilbird chrips, spotting a flash of silver in the dim room. It was a set of keys, sitting up on a nail, in plain sight. Prussia grins, hearing Gilbird chripping back at him.

"Kesesesesesesesesese......great, bring them here." Prussia says, Gilbird taking flight and landing on the nail, pecking the key ring.

Gilbird hops onto the key ring, grasping the cold steel in his talons. Giilbrid struggles, flapping his wings as had as he could. He chirps, Prussia, groaning.

Prussia debates weather to tell Gilbird to come back in, or to stay out there where he couldn't protect him. "Its too heavy?" He holds his head in his hands, finally deciding what he wanted, "Please, keep trying. You can do it, after all you are my awesome bird." He says, hoping to give Gilbird confidence.

Gilbird increases his flapping, chirping happily as the keys come off the nail.

Prussia smiles, "Gut. Jetzt beeilen, bevor Russland kommt. (Good. Now hurry, before Russia comes." He says.

Prussia was worried, his heart racing infear. He wouldn't be calm until Gilbird was in his pocket and they were rushing out into the snow-covered land. After all, Gilbird was much a part of him as his own heart. He couldn't bear to think of what he would do if Gilbird got hurt, it would be like himself dying. Gilbird gets closer to the door, almost falling to the ground under the weight of the keys, the jingling echoing throughout the room. Prussia sighs, hearing Gilbird getting closer, the weight lifting off his shoulders as he starts to relax. The next noise he hears, brings his heart to a stop.

Prussia hears a strangled chirp and the clanging of keys falling to the ground, the silence foretelling the fate of his Gilbird.

Prussia is in shock, his lip trembling in fear and denial. He gulps, hearing nothing but silence, "Gilbird..." He manages out, his voice cracking, "Hey buddy antworte mir..." He says, "Sind sie in ordnung?" (Hey buddy answer me...Are you alright?) Nothing, the silence is loud on the other side of the door, "ANTWORTE MIR!" He yells out, breaking the silence with his yell. He stops as he hears a chuckle on the other side, his breath hitching in his throat.

The voice makes his blood boil in anger, "What is a little bird doing here?" A jangle of keys is heard, the voice chuckling again, We're you trying to play with the keys? You can't do that, da." He hears a weak chip, making him see red. Another chirp escapes Gilbird's beak making Prussia jump up, the man trying to kick down the door. He understood perfectly what his Gilbird had said and he wasn't about to let down his commrade.

_'Help me, Gilbert.'_

**Prussia growls, banging his shoulder into the small door to the cell, "Let me out of here! I don't want to be confined! LET HIM GO! Gib ihn zurück, Blvde Arschloch! (Give him back, stupid asshole!)" He yells out, desperatly pounding on the door.**

Russia pets the shivering bird, "Oh he's your's is he?"" He laughs, leaning back in the gaurd's chair, "And why should I, da?"

The bird chirps in fear as Russia grabs it in his hand, his fingers trapping the bird easily. The bird chirps frantically as the hand squeezes it slightly. He grins innocently and squeezes, Gilbird no longer chirpping, the frantic noises cut short, Prussia's heart leaping to his throat.

Prussia gasps, tears coming to his eyes, a stabbing pain developing in his lower stomach, "Nein! What did you do? LET GILBIRD GO!" He yells, sobbing out, "I'll do anything, just don't hurt him." He begs.

Russia releases his grip on the bird, it chirpping in a paniced voice, the pain dissappearing from Prussia. Russia chuckles, "You really care about this little pteetsa (Bird) don't you?"

"Laß ihn gehen, Ungeheuer! (Let him go, Monster!)" Prussia says pounding on the door.

Russia chuckles, picking up Gilbird by his tail feathers, "Nyet." The bird chirps wearily, trying to fly away but being held in midair by the nation.

Prussia sinks to the floor, banging his fists on the door, "Bitte, bitte, bitte. Ich bitte sie nicht ihn zu verletzen. (Please, please, please. I beg you, don't hurt him.)" Prussia says, hearing only Gilbird's small chirps in the next room, hearing his heart cry out to him.

Russia looks at Gilbird deep in thought, "Ok, since you asked nicely." He says, Prussia sighing in relief, "Can I kill him them?"

Prussia's sigh is caught in his throat, "Nein! Nein! Nicht! (No! No! Don't!)" He yelps out, standing up.

He doesn't hear anything in the next room, Prussia's gut tightening in fear. He bangs his head, fearing the worst. He gasps as he hears something snap and falls to the floor, his hands trembling. He puts his hands through his hair, closing his eyes as tears stream down his face. He felt horrible, his only friend had just been taken from him. It was his fault, all his fault that his had happened. He felt a tightening in his gut as he began to sob, for the loss of his Gilbird. He lays back on the wall, why did Russia do that?

Suddenly, something yellow and feathery rushes in under the small crack in the door, barreling into Prussia's arms, shivering but alive. He could feel the bird accelerated pulse against him, it was off the charts. Prussia looks in joy, tears streming down his cheeks. Prussia hugs him in relief, comforting the small bird by patting his head. Gilbird calms down, snuggling deeper into Prussia's arms.

"Gott sei Dank sind sicher. (Thank God you are alright.)" He breathes out, "I'll never send you out there to get the keys again, Versprechen. (Promise)" He says, Gilbird chirpping at him.

He hears Russia come towards the door and pushes Gilbid protectively behind him, his red eye glowing in anger. He stands up, glaring at the door, he wasn't about to let Russia get a hold of his Gilbird, not again.

Russia chuckles, "This has been fun, da." Guess I'll go to the meeting now, maybe I might attack Italy again." He says cheerfully, grinning.

Prussia growls, whipping the tears from his eyes, "You just be glad West is locked up. He would've kicked your ass by now, beating up Birde for no reason!"

Russia chuckles, "But Prussia, Ialy is the one keeping your brother locked up."

Prussia gasps, sniffing, "You're lying! Birde would never do that to West!"

Russia smirks, "Oh, you didn't know, da? Germany gave up to Italy. Italy put him in jail, to await the trails. Then..." He chuckles, "WHo knows, they might dissolution Germany after the trouble he's called, da. After all, he has started two World Wars, and they won't let him off easy this time." He begins, chanting kol to let the threat sink in. He laughs as Prussia's attempts at breaking down the cell door.

"Nein! He can't survive that again, don't you fucking dare do that to him! Leave my Burder (Brother) alone!" He yells out, "Lügner! (Liar)"

"Don't worry, I won't, yet." He chuckles, leaving the prison.

Prussia growls at the door, giving it one last kick, the room going totally dark as Russia turns off the light outside. Prussia sighs, sitting down on te cold floor. Was Russia telling him the truth? It couldn't be true, Italy cared to mcuh about Germany to lock him up. If it was true, it had to be that older brother of his, Romano. Romano despised both Prussia and Germany to no end, Russia had to be talking about that Italy. He gasps, feeling a warm fluffy thing land on his hand. Gilbird was still trembling, the tremors being felt through the nation's hand. He picks up Gilbird, petting the rising fluff on top of the young hawk's head, trying to calm the bird after i\his traumatizing experience. Prussia sighs, thinking about Russia had said, about Germany being dissolutioned. he had already went through that once, barely surviving. Prussia knew he couldn't survive a second time.

"It'll be ok, Gilbird. You have the awesome me here. I won't let that Russian bastard at you, Versprechen." He says, placing the bird back on top of his head.

He sighs, still thinking about West, he wouldn't let them hurt him either, not as long as he was still kicking.

**Author note: I believe that Prussia has a nickname for Italy, and that its Birde. After all, he probably thinks of Italy as a little bird that follows after Germany much like his own Gilbird follows him. Ok, back to story.**

Samuel makes his way back to Foxtrot barracks, still not understanding what had happened today. He had heard so many different stories, from America holding a soldier hostage, to him flying off, only to crash down into the ocean. One even said he was dead. Samuel needed the truth now. Why did the White House place a hit on America? He opens the door, gasping at how many people were in the barracks. It was more than just his squad of 20, it was almost 35 people crowded into that room. Howard is sitting on the bed, along with Stark and the rest of Foxtrot group, with a few new additions.

"Howard, what's going on? I was with Sergeant Herman when the alarm went off. The White House called a hit on Alfred. What happened this afternoon?" He asks, looking at Howard.

Howard looks up, "The White House called a hit on America?"

Samuel nods, "Yes, I don't know what's going on with that, I needed to know if Mr. America is alright....is he?"

"Yeah, is ok." Samuel is started by the voice, "No thanks to me." Samuel turns around, spotting the Corproal behind him. Corproal Banks.

"Banks?" Samuel looks at his friend, "Banks, what do you mean?"

Banks stands up, sighing, "I...I shot America. I hit him in his shoulder. He was able to fly the plane but I have no idea what damage I've done. If Howard hadn't have tackled me to the ground, according to what your troop has told me, I would've killed America." He looks shaken, knowing he had almost killed the nation he was fighting for. He wasn't himself, questioning his sanity.

Samuel sighs, "Don't blame yourself, if the White House hadn't called the hit, this wouldn't have happened." He groans, "What could have made them do that?"

Stark perks up, "America looked scared, that I remember." He sighs, "But we weren't able to find out why America was so scared, and what made him so desperate to get out of the country?"

Vann groans, "I don't know, but this isn't right. Why did they send us against our own nation?" The Sergeant First Class says, the highest ranking person they had in this barrack at the time.

Stark sighs, "Would it have been that Frank guy he mentioned last night?"

Anther guy, Private Ricks groans, "I don't know, but we can't let this happen again, America is part of Foxtrot Troop, we protect our own."

Stark shakes his head, "No, he is part of the Freedom Troop."

Samuel grins, "Freedom Troop."

Howard nods, "Yes, the Freedom Troop, and Ricks is right, whatever has America scared, we need to help him at all costs. Who's with me!" Howards says, holding out his hand.

Ricks nods, "Count me in, I signed up for some action, not to just sit here and do nothing."

Banks nods, "I want to help, I want to make up for shooting him."

Samuel stands up, "Of course I'm getting in this, Alfred needs us."

The rest of the troop reply, each saying the same thing, "Count me in."

Howard grins, "Alright, we need to first figure what the heck is going on, and look out for America or any of the nations he showed us." He says, remembering all the pictures America had of his fellow allies, "Huahh?"

"Huahh." They reply, putting their hands together.

Howard smirks, "Alright, let get mission Freedom on the way." He says, the troop lifting their hands up.

Rick grins, "I can get a hold of my brother, he's over in North Carolina, and he has plenty of friends around the USA and maybe even some in Europe. I can tell them to keep a eye out for the nations and for an news that could lead to why America looked scared out of his wits."

Samuel grins, "That would help a lot, Project Freedom is on the move." He says, the rest of the guys seeming more uplifted, doing something to help their nation, litterally.

888

Now, thanks to this event happening, all of Andrew Air Force Base knew about Alfred F. Jones and his true idenity. It was a disaster, that big of a secret getting out, and through the chaos, somehow people in Washington was now asking the same question. Who was Alfred F. Jones really? The local media had even reasearched it, pulling pictures from as far back as the Civil War and even a painting of him when it was 1700 hundreds and America had first been discovered. Even the National Inquirer was all over this case, calling him a Vampire and some saying he was a Demi-god from Greece. Other said he was a ghost of a lost soldier that didn't know that he had died in the Revolution. Everybody had different stories from people saying that they knew him and other claiming he didn't exist, most of these Vetrans trying to protect their nation. The word spread from Washington, to California in a matter of hours, finding more and more proof that America was real, and human. They even discovered other people in the photographs that appeared in different time periods, looking the same. The United States was now in a frenzy, if there was an America, there had to be other nations. The media was eatting this up, going to more and more sources, trying to find out exactly who these mysterious people were. The Goverment could no longer keep any information to themselves, The United States had found out the secret their forefathers had kept for roughly 200 hundred years. Everybody knew who Alfred F. Jones was and what he was. America.

**Hope this chapter saves, everytime I save it logs me out. Need to fix my cookies...**


	9. Mayday

America groans, his arm was on fire as he was struggling to keep the plane up. He's surprised they didn't send any planes after him. Probably didn't have enough time or didn't want to go after him. He needed help, and the only person who could help him was Italy. Germany and him were friends with Japan, he might be able to warn him of the bombs before Truman sent them. This was bad, he didn't want Japan to get attacked, especially not with Atomic Bombs. Even he didn't know where his own people would keep the bombs. He needed all the help he could get/ Italy would be at the meeting along with everybody else in the fucking Allies. They ddn't know a thing about the bombs, Atomic Bombs were unheard of by the other countries except for Germany, where they weren't able to succeed in creating the weapons. He had been in the air for six hours now, knowing he was close to the UN building and close to a run wa7. He just had to find a place to land before...He freezes, looking at his fuel tank meter. It was empty, and now making a frantic beeping noise as he began to lose altitude.

"Oh shit no!" Stay up! Pull up!" He yells, the plane starting to go into a nose dive.

He grabs the radio, and flicks it on. He had no choice but to call for help now, he was losing air fast. "MAYDAY! I repeat, MAYDAY! Come in England, please!" He yells out the plane picking up speed.

888

Everybody is at the meeting, Russia still missing. England sighs, getting ready to put in his two-cents when a loud sound jolts them out of the meteting. A crackling coming from the radio in the other room alerts them all, yelling coming from the static. England hops up, hearing only one voice. America's. He throws open the door, catching the end of the yell of terror.

"...England please!" He hears America's frantic yelling coming from the CBC radio.

England picks up the mic, "Alfred! What's going on, what is it?" He yells out, the rest of the Allies pour into the room, worried looks on their faces.

America grans, Out of gas, losing control of the plane! MAYDAY! Can't pull...out of...tail spin.." America yanks off the goggles, the things only getting in his way. He freezes, "OH SHI-"

The line goes silent, everybody freezing in place. England is trembling, holding onto the mic for dear life. He gulps and clicks the radio, "Alfred..." He chokes out.

"Sacre Bleu.." France mumbles out, his hand over his mouth in shock.

England ignores him, still trying to contact America, refusing to believe the obvious truth, "Alfred...come in."

China puts his hand on his shoulder, "Arthur, its..."

England growls, "Come in Damn't! Alfred, answer the bloody radio or I'll...I'll.." He breaks down, flinging the mic against the wall.

He storms out of the room, pushing aside Italy who stumbles to the ground. England clenches his fists in anger. He flings open the front door and looks in shock as he sees a plume of smoke not too far from the building, probably five miles away. The rest of the nations rush out, stopping as they see England saring at the forbodding cloud rising into the dark sky, rain pouring down in torrents.

England gasps, "ALFRED!" He yells, rushing towards the smoke. He didn't care if his banadages got wet, they were just a nucaince. He needed to find America and kill him for be so reckless and for being late and for..for..being America.

**Susca for the short chapter...its been a rough week. Oh, and Beta! I can't find my Beta, I deleted the emial by accident...susca! *bows in forgiveness...but I have to decline..I want somebody who I've know longer and actually talked to alot to beta my stroies...so, for my friends out there who Read my stories and talk to me a lot like Sora Tayuya, want to be my beta? ANdfor the person I said yes too earlier..I'm sorry..its just...I deleted the email by accident and then I tried to remember your name and I decided I wanted somebody who I knew better and talked to often rather than someone I couldn't remember their user name. Please don't hate me or my stroies after this..I'm sorry...**


	10. One Solution

America groans, grasping a hold of the grass under him, pulling himself from the burning wreck of a plane. The rain was splattering on top of his leather coat, making a steady patter to add to the downpour. The cold rain drops hit his burning head, the feverish pain coursing through him, cooling him off somewhat. He gasps, pushing himself up with one arm, still sore after the crash. He didn't have time to eject and he had forgot to get a parachuet so he had no choice but to ride out the crash the best he could, the fire singing his coat, his hair and hurting him badly. He thinks he did pretty good, if he did say so. He was still alive, though hurt. He sits up but falls out again, yelling in pain, his whole world ringing in dead silence. He couldn't hear anything, but the constant ringing, not even the rushing off footsteps rushing towards him. England perks up, hearing the cry of help, dashing in the direction he thought it came from. America sighs, looking up at the sky, seeing the black smoke rising up as the rain drops hit Texas as he stares up, lost to the world. He needed to move but he couldn't, the pain too great for him. It would fade soon, it was an injury that he had obtained, not one that his country had suffered from. He blacks out, his struggling stopping, his head lolling to the side. Italy dashes onto the scene, yelping in fear at the sight of America sprawled out on the ground.

"I FOUND HIM!" He says, alerting the rest, "Circa qui, Circa qui!(Over here, over here!)" He calls, running over to the fallen hero. "He's not moving, ve!" Italy yelps out, cradling America's head in his arms, keeping his airway open.

England dashes out, gasping as he sees America's state. "What the bloody hell happened here?" He growls out rushing over to America. "Alfred, wake up." He pops America in the face, America groaning at the contact, "Get up wanker, are you ok?" America's eyes flutter for a second, looking dimly around before falling out again.

Italy glares at England, causing him to freeze in confusion. Italy never got mad, so it threw the empire off for a second.

"Well concidering you just slapped him, no." Italy yells out, surprising England. Italy sighs and looks down at America, shaking him slightly "Alfred...wake up, per favore. (please.)" He says in a calm voice.

America groans, opening his eyes once more and looking up at the other nations crowding around him. He gasps, thrown off gaurd and tries to stand up, putting his right arm down to push himself off. He yelps as his gunshot wound pains him, landing back in Italy's arms, the shorter nation having trouble keeping him up. England grabs him by his shoulders and helps him up, America hissing as England grabs a hold of his wound. England lets him go, America straightening himself, barely, still out of it. England looks at his right hand and spots blood, America's blood.

He looks up, "Alfred, what's going on? Why the bloody hell did you drive your plane without gas in it it, baka!" He says, his voice shaking.

China runs up to America, the nation still out of it and confused as to what was going on. "America. You ok? Alfred..." Still no answer, but a paniced look on America's face.

France groans, clicking his fingers infront of the dazed nation's face. No response, Alfred doesn't even blink. "Great, we've lost contact, maybe his friend Tony could help us out." He replies, hitting his forehead.

England shoots France a worried death glare, before looking in fear at the red liquid on his hands, "Francis, this is not the time to make sarcastic remarks! WINO!" England yells out, "He's bleeding. He's bloody bleeding!" He says, holding up his hand, covered in America's blood.

"AIYAH!" China helps America steady himself, taking a look at his jacket. A circle of red is soaked into the leather, a rip in the fabric. He looks at his back and spots a small hole going into the shoulder area on the leather coat. "He's been shot, aru!" He exclaims.

"SHOT?" Canada yells out, finally ariving on the scene, "What do you mean Alfred's been shot?" His blue eyes wide in worry.

England growls, "Shot? I knew something had happened, I knew it." He pulls his hair in frustration, "Get him back to the headquaters, now." He yells, pointing towards the building.

Italy and China nod, helping America walk through the clearing, the rain turing everything to mud almost. America's mind is racing, not knowing what was going on, who these people were or anything. His vision is going in and out as his body tries to heal itself, trying to get him back to a hundred percent. His vision starts to finally clear as they help him towards the hideout, the rain starting to wake him fully up. He stops, finally coming to his senses. China and Italy look at him in relief as he looks around in shock. To the nations' surprise, he yanks free of them, stumbling as he tries to keep upright. England and France rush up to him, catching him before he ran directly into a tree.

"Let me go, we need to go, now!" America yells out, finally finding his voice.

England groans, struggling to keep a hold of the crazy American, "Alfred, you will come with us, you're hurt, you fell out of the bloody sky and you've been shot. Who shot you anyhow?" England asks.

America shakes his head, England and France finally not letting him stand by himself. America groans, feeling the pain coursing through him. He notices the nations staring at him and realises he didn't answer England. England was looking worriedly at America, ready to drag him to the hospital.

America sighs, grasping his arm in pain, "My soldiers but that doesn't matter. I need..."

"Your own people shot you!" France yells out, "That's munity! Why did they shoot you?" He says, worried about America's well being.

France was remembering the last time America's soldiers had shot him, back during the civil war. America had gone nuts after wards, torn between two sides of his country, it was heart renching. He wondered if America was going through yet another Civil War, and that wouldn't do them any good right now, in the middle of WW2. Russia already had an insane fit, his country going through their own revolution. Russia had almost killed them all before Belarus drug him out of the meeting room, kicking and screaming in fact. America backs up but gasps, his body still in too much pain to move too much.

England groans, looking worriedly at America, "Alfred, stop, don't move anymore, you'll hurt yourself even more. We need to see if you're ok. What were you thinking? That crash could've killed you!" England exclaims, practically yelling at him.

America shrugs off England and starts heading towards the nearest airfield, growling in anger. They weren't listening to him, they wouldn't listen to him. Japan was an Axis, they wouldn't care if he was getting killed, but...maybe Italy could get him to surreneder before the bomb was over there. No, Italy wouldn't be able to convince Japan to surrender, it wouldn't work. Nothing would. He had to destroy the bomb, that was the only way, and he knew it. England looks shocked, America hadn't acted like this ever sense he suceeded from him all those years ago. France runs up to him, walking beside him.

"Alfred? Arthur was just talking to you. You just don't shove him off like th-" France begins.

Amercia growls and quickens his pace, but where to find the bombs, it was like search for a needle in a haystack, and he had only 2 days to find it. France stops, not understanding America's behavior. You could never get America to shut up sometimes and here he was, refusing to talk to anybody.

"America? What's gotten in to you, aru?" China exclaims.

America stops, his fist trembling, the rain falling all around him, matching his mood. The rest of the five nations stare at him, backing away from him.

"You want to know what's wrong, Yao? I'm a villian, that's what's wrong." America says low, the voice even freaking Italy out. He looks back, tears in his eyes, "My boss is about to do something horrible!"

"What happened at the meeting, Alfred?" England says slowly, trying to get closer to his former younger brother. He now realised America was serious and he was ready to listen.

America groans, "Truman...is going to bomb Japan." Italy winces, hearing the news.

The rest sigh, "It'll be ok, aru. Kiku can handle a bombing raid, after all, Arthur di-" China starts.

America growls loudly, "No, you don't understand...the bombs...they aren't regular bombs."

Italy looks at America a very worried look on his face, "What do you mean 'not regular bombs' ?"

America sighs, tears streaming down his face, concealed by the falling rain, "This is how Szilard explained it to me...its called an Atomic Bomb." Italy looks up, he had heard Germany talk about that once, America continues, pacing around the nations. " It is bascially..um...how did he say it?" America holds his head as he tries to think, the adrenaline pupping through him making it hard to focus, "A device, such as a bomb or warhead, whose great explosive power derives from the release of nuclear energy and not explosives. A nuclear blast follows an explosion and emits a large amount of thermal radiation, which includes harmful ultraviolet rays, and other deadly radiation." He continues to circle, the nations looking wide eyed to America's explination, like he was speaking a completely different language. "It will kill thousands if not millions of people, not from the blast, but from the radiation! The damage to the land is much worse if not the same, killing plants, poisoning the land, hell...fires, radiation, poison, even the explosion in a small area would have a lot of effect." His wrist throbs at the mention of it, shaking his head, to get to the point of his expliation. "But Truman wants to drop it on some of Japan's most populated areas, his vital points! In other words, if I don't stop the bombs..." He holds his head down, about to sobbing. He restrains his emotions, looking at the other nations' horrified faces, gathering his wits together "Japan will die."

China and Italy look horrified at the news, Italy falling to his knees. The rest just stare in disbelief, just shocked with the news. Italy was on the verge of crying, his best friend was in danger, terrible danger, and Germany wouldn't be able to help them out this time. He shivers, hoping America was wrong, that it was just a regular bomb. He gasps, remembering Germany talking about a 'Atombombe' long time ago, when his scientists were trying to develop a new bomb and try it out on England. Italy begged Germany to stop building it, saying it wasn't good, it was evil and would only bring more trouble. The bomb was a failure and his scientists said it couldn't be done, calming Italy down. But, here America's scientists had come up with the impossible bomb and was going to use it on Japan.

France groans, "Merde."

America runs towards them, "We have to find and destroy the bomb, before Truman sends it on the 6th. I tried to talk him out of it but he had already made his decision and the bomb is ready to drop, he even tested it on me!"

The nations look in shock at America, the rain pouring steadly around them. England looks horrified at America, not believing what he had just heard. Even Canada is shocked, not liking that his twin brother's boss had used him as a lab rat.

England growls, "What do you mean your boss tested it on you?" His eyebrows twitching in fury.

America sighs, "You remember in July, when my arm pained me so bad I couldn't stand it and I went back to my base to rest up? He had bombed New Mexico to try out the bomb, and it worked very well, too well." America says, his wrist twtitching involuntery, still paining him slightly. "He told me the bombs were for Germany, but Germany had already surrenedered so he's now turned his sights on Japan."

Italy looks up, "He was going to kill Germany?" He yelps out, his voice cracking.

America nods, "And now he's going after Kiku unless he surrenders before the bomb drops. We have to ethier destroy the bomb, or convince Kiku to surrender peacefully."

Italy perks up, "I could..."

America shakes his head, "No, Japan won't listen to you, you are an Ally."

"But, I use to be an Axis, I only joined because Mr. Badoglio made me join." Italy replies. America shakes his head sadly, Italy hanging his head down in defeat.

China snaps out of it, "Well, where are the bombs then, aru? We have to stop them, or else Kiku will die!" He says, tears welling up in his eyes.

America gets ready to say something when England jumps into the conversation, "Listen here, we need to get organized on this matter. We need to get into the headquaters, out of this rain, America needs to get banadaged up, and we need to figure out a game plan. We need to do this or else everything will go wrong, understand?" England says, shaking his head as the water drips into his eyes. The nations look at England, not sure weather to listen to him, or go hunt down Truman and skin him alive for this.

America sighs, "England's right, we have till Monday to figure this out." He winces, falling onto his knees, his body had taken too much and he couldn't take it. He needed food, water and rest but he wasn't about to let himself sleep, not until Japan was safe.

China looks very upset, he may have hated his brother after he slash his back in betrayal but, he was family. He couldn't let his family get hurt, even if he hated him. Italy jumps, a crack of lighting shattering the air around them. It matched their turmol perfectly, the rain really pouring now. Canada sighs, walking up to America, Alfred looking like he was almost dead. He helps him stand up, proping him up on his shoulders. They head towards the building, England grabbing America's other arm and helping Canada carry the injured hero. Italy rushes ahead of them and opens the door for them, the nations piling in. China groans at England's banadages, the white ribbons falling off of him, revealing a few gashes in his arms and one on his neck. He didn't notice though, helping America to the chair. He yanks America's coat off of him, the leather jacket landing on the ground. Italy looks at the map inside in shock, he couldn't believe it he just couldn't imagine it.

"D-Day..." He looks at the plans in America's coat, the plans him and Germany could never find, right under their noses.

The rest don't notice, America groaning as his uniform was stained with his blood, "I have no idea what this is going to do to North Carolina." America replies, looking at his right shoulder not knowing about the escaped POW in his homeland.

England sighs, pulling off America's uniform, "I'm sure it was nothing too bad." He reassures America, "Now calm down, and shut up, China, we need to see if the bullet is out, and if not..."

America groans, "Oh don't dig it out, last time that happened I was in the Rev...um...Civil war. That didn't feel too good." He replies, changing subject before England noticed.

China groans, "We might have to get him drunk...what a time for Russia not to be here."

America shakes his head frantically, "Oh no, you won't see me even touch his damn Vodka." He growls out, glad that the nation was nowhere to be found.

Canada sighs smiling slightly, America was still acting like himself at least. He was still frantic though, he could sense it, even if no one else could. England sighs, looking at the wound, seeing no bullet, it had came out the other side. France growls, his head soaked and his lovely hair completely messed up, shaking his head to get the water off. That just makes it look worse though, plastered to his forehead now. He moves it out of his face, looking pathetic in the least. China and England work on America, taking off his uniform, the nation tensing up as the fabric sliding off of his wound. China gasps, seeing the scar on America's left chest, England just looking in shock. His shock quickly turns to fury, glaring at America.

"Where'd you get this?" England asks, poking the scar in anger, "You didn't tell us about this."

America whinces, turning his head away, "Um...well...its from Pearl Harbor. When we were bombed by Japan's planes, ok. I was there that day, through it all." He admits.

England looks in shock, he knew America had gotten hurt that day, but America never showed it, just claiming his got a small scratch from Pearl Harbor, not a gash that scared over.

China looks at the scar, reminded of his own, "America, why didn't you tell us?"

America growls, "Because, I still...OW...hey, watch the shoulder!" He growls out, England wrapping the banadages tighter on him, anger coursing through the Brit. America gasps, the pain coursing through him, "It will just heal up in the morning, its not like North Carolina was attacked." He groans out, England pulling tighter.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He says, looking at America sternly.

America sighs, "Because, I could handle it, its not like I was terribly hurt by slamming into the jagged wall. Sure it almost squerwered my heart, but I was fine, just sightly burn, a few gunshot woulds and stuff." He says, clutching the chair arm in pain.

England sighs, "You wanker." He shakes his head, smiling slightly, "You could've been killed in the attack, you never told us you were actually at Pearl Harbor." He wasn't mad at America, just a little for lying to him. He was more relieved that America was ok, and not dead.

Italy sits in the back, he had to warn Japan, but Japan was too warry of Westerners, he would ever surrender to the Allies. He's hands twitch, he wanted to call, to save his friend more than anything. France sighs, looking at Italy. He was so confused probally, torn between friends and a war, his own people had imprisoned Germany in one of their jails. America moves his arm, whincing at the movement. England growls and slaps America on the back of the head.

"Ow! Arthur?" America looks up at England.

"Don't move it, you'll hurt it worse than it already is." England replies, looking at America.

America sighs, nodding his head, "Yes, bro." He says, his eye's getting droppy, the adrenaline wearing off.

England looks in shock, "What did you call me?"

America looks up, "Huh, what?" He was tried, no sleep for 20 hours having an effect on him, not to mention all that happened.

England sighs, noticing the all-telling look in America's eyes, he was exhausted. He didn't blame him, after all he went through, England would've already fell out asleep."Alfred, you need to sleep."

America shakes his head, "Not tired, need to find that bomb, or warn Kiku. I can't go to sleep, now."

England looks outside, "Alfred. Nobody is going anywhere for a while with that tempest outside, now, go to sleep."

America shakes his head, thinking. He really needed to get to Japan, there was no way he was going to find the bombs before he could stop the first one. Italy meanwhile is thinking the same thing. He knew he couldn't get through to Japan without some help. America sighs, if only there was someway to get to Japan without...Italy and America look up at the same time.

One thought was on their mind, "Germany."


	11. Cartastrophy

America dashes outside, Italy by his side, the rain pelting down on the two. America yanks open the car door, Italy hopping in the other side, shutting the door with a slam. England is struggling to head out the door, the keys to his car in America's hands now. They had been told the idea by America and Italy, but England didn't like it. This plan was suicide! He had to stop them, before they drove away. The cars starts to pull away, America getting ready to floor it.

England dashes infront of the car, America stopping. England is soaked and panting, hitting the hood with his hands, his green eyes enraged "Alfred, get out of the bloody car now before I..." America rolls down the window, sticking his head out in the rain.

He gives England a look of determniation, that he was going to get what he wanted, and nobody was stopping him. It was the same look he gave England all those years ago when he fought for his freedom. This nation was on a mission and hell or high waters wasn't going to stop him.

"Arthur, you and France need to find the bombs, me and Italy are going to go with our plan. Do it before Truman decides to move the date up to today." He says, England grasping the hood tighter, as if he could stop it. America could tote this car if he wanted to, as England found out one day when he was training.

"Alfred, Feliciano! This is maddness, if you do this, they kill you as traitors!" England yells out, his hair plastered to his forehead from the steady rain.

France runs out, his cloak thrown over his head to protect his hair. He wasn't getting his hair soaked again. He pauses seeing the stand off between England's car and England, knowing which one would win in a stand off. "Arthur, get out of the way. At this point Alfred might run you over!" France yells out. England and France jump, hearing America rev the engine.

"Arthur, I need to do this. If Japan gets hit by the bomb, I'll never forgive myself. Not if I could've prevented it." America looks up at England with sollum blue eyes, feeling guilty that his boss was doing this.

"But..." England says, slamming his fist on the hood of the car, "Where the hell are we supposed to look for a damn bomb?"

America looks at him, "You're good at spying, right? Then use your skills, kay." He gets ready to rool up the Window when England yells out, America pausing at the sound of pure rage.

England shakes his head, "Hell no, anyway, you are exhausted. I can tell, you are about to fall over from the lack of sleep, you wanker, now OUT OF MY CAR."

Italy rolls down the window, "England, move." He says, looking at England sternly.

England and France look in shock, never hearing Italy be so forceful before in his life. He was always pushed around by other people, never bossing others around. England backs up from the car, America nodding and rolling up his window, driving off into the road. France and England watch the car disappear into the strom, driving down the road. France pats him on the back, England sighing in regret for not stopping America.

"Come on, we should get a head start searching for the bomb." He says.

England looks up at him, "And how are we supposed to find a bloody Atomic Bomb, in that huge damn country that he has? For all we know it could be in another land!" He yells out, his hands in his wet hair. France walks over, rubbing his back and gently guiding him towards the meeting house, China looking worried.

888

America groans, swerving the car back onto the road, Italy breathing frantically. His knuckles turning white as he held onto the car door handle for dear life as they drove down the highway. That was the third time America had almost drove into a tree, just missing the plant by mere inchesm and manage. He was exhausted, but he needed to get to Italy's house quickly and he wasn't letting himself go to sleep. Meanwhile, Italy is grasping the handle above him in panic, almost pulling the restraint off. He was scared, so many close calls from moving into oncoming traffic, running off the roads, and to even almost running into a house at one point. Sure, Italy drove this fast, but only when he was well rested and America wasn't well rested. Now he knew how Japan felt when he was driving Japan home. He needed to end this, before America killed them both.

"Alfred...pull over please." He stares wide eyed at the road, seeing the grass coming up before America corrected himself..

America grips the wheel, leaning over the wheel, "No, I'm just fine."

"Alfred, you almost ran into a tree, you really need to let me drive." He says, gulping as America gave him a death glare.

America focuses on the road, ignoring Italy, shaking his head to clear his mind. He wasn't about to let Italy get control. He looks at the road, his eyes dropping but shakes his head, struggling against the warm feeling spreading through him. He opens his eyes, the road becoming blurry as his eyes dart around. The next thing he knows is he is awakened to a pirecing yell and two headlights coming right for him. He yells swerving back into his lane, just avoiding the truck. He pulls over to the side, panting in fear and looking at Italy, seeing if the nation was ok. America would never forgive him if he had hurt the older nation because of his pride. The color had drained from the nation, Italy trembling and holding a now detached door handle in his hand. America chuckles nerviously, seeing the object clutched desperatly in Italy's hand, just glad Italy was ok. He really didn't need to drive.

"Italy...I'm not fine..." He says, seeing the nation jump at the sound of America's voice.

Italy looks at America and then looks back at the handle in his hand, "America, back seat, now." He say pointing to the backseat. "You need to sleep, ve. Before you kill us both. Germany needs us alive if we are to break him out." Italy replies.

America nods, opening the door and climbing out, almost stumbling drunkedly onto the pavement. He stops, grabbing the door behind him to steady himself. He gulps, hearing a screeching of metal and a thunk behind him. He looks back, England was so going to kill him. America had ripped the door off its hinges, Italy looking in shock from the front of the car. The severed door was dragged onto the ground, the window on it cracked down the middle and the handle bent, making the siuation worse. Italy rushes around the hood, standing in front of America. Looking from him, to the door and back, unbelieving.

America looks at the detached door as if it was a deadly snake, "Iggy...is going to be pissed." He dropped the door to the ground, the road scratching it up more than it already was, adding another crack to the window. The horrible scrapping noise causes the two nations to cover their ears.

Italy uncovers his ears and just shakes his head, "Just please, get in the back and don't kill that door, ve." He says, knowing he would probably be fussed out for this, even if it wasn't his fault.

America carefully opens the door, laying down face first in the backseat, knocked out as soon as he hits the soft leather seat. Italy groans, seeing America's legs sticking out of the car. He leaves the front door in the road and pushes America all the way in the car, his snores soft but troubled. Italy closes the door, America moving to keep the seatbeat from digging into his gut, sighing as he got comfortable. Italy grabs up the front door, wondering how in the word he was going to get it back on so he could drive. He gives up, hopping in the front seat, and gripping the door, slamming it shut. It surprisingly snaps into place, staying firm, not even looking like it was fully detached from the car. He locks it, knowing that if he didn't it would come open, and he wasn't about to be flung out of a moving vehicle.

"Ve...I'm just glad Alfred didn't try to drive on the 'right' side like he usually does." Italy says to himself, pulling off of the shoulder and into the road, heading toward's his house, America sleeping deepily, the nightmare replaying once again.

888

Japan watches as the young army men hop into the planes, riding off to complete their mission. He saw younger and younger men everyday it seemed, in his army. His whole country was prepared for war, even little kids in his Elementary schools practicing military skills. It wasn't something he was proud of, but in War Time, he was glad his people were able to defend themselves against the Westerners. He watches as the planes depart, going back to his station. He sighs, sitting back into his chair, looking over some documents. He sees the phone beside him, unmoved. He hadn't used it since Germany had disappeaered, actually missing when Italy would call him for help. He wondered if Italy was alright with the Allies. He hoped so, Italy was too innocent and kind for anything to happen to the little nation.

"General Kiku?" A man sticks his head through the door, "A word with you?" He asks.

Japan looks up, dragged out of his thoughts by the voice. He looks up, seeing a General standing before him. Japan stands up, getting ready to sallute him when the general shakes his head, "Japan, you don't have to do that."

Japan looks down, "Gonemaisai." He sits down, "Hai, come on in." He says, motioning towards th chair.

The General nods, walking into the room and sitting down on the chair, "Japan, we have recieved some terrible news." Japan looks up, "It seems the Russians are approaching us, intent on taking over." He says, Japan sighing in anger.

"Any other news?" He asks.

The General shakes his head, "No, the 12 cities haven't been bombed yet that the American troops have warnned us about. A call came in though, from a person named Yao. He hung up though when we questioned him."

"China called?" He asks, surprised.

The General looks shock, "China? Yao is his name?"

"Hai, he called?" Japan says once again, "Why would he call, he hates me."

The General shrugs his shoulders, "I have no clue sir, but, I just wanted to let you know that the Russians are approaching. They are keeping their promise to the Americans to aid them in battle."

Japan sighs, nodding his head, "Thank you sir, this is bad news but I'm glad I know now. Domo Arigato"

The General nods and bows, leaving the room and Japan alone. Japan looks out the window, why would China call? He looks at the phone, debating wether to call China to find out why he had called him. A feeling inside him, the same feeling of dread was urging him to the phone. He picks it up, dailing in the first 3 numbers before hanging up. No, China had probably called to ask him to give up, and he wasn't going to fall for it. He stands up and walks out of his office, closing the door behind him. A few minutes after he leaves the phone rings, but no one is there to answer it, the urgent call going unanswered and his fate unknown to the nation.

888

Russia rushes into the meeting room, desperate to escape the thunder and lightening outside, terrified of thunder storms. He doesn't even notice that England and France have already begun fussing at each other, instead rushing to his seat at the table. He sits down at the meeting table, noticing that America and Italy was missing. He frowns, not able to keep his promise to Prussia. He stops, seeing how upset China looked, the phone in his hands. He then notices that France and England aren't just fussing, but they seem, frantic almost. What had happened before he got here? He shakes his head, the water flinging off his head.

"What's going, da?" He asks, the room growing quiet at the sound of his voice.

England looks back, seeing Russia sitting at the table, as if he had been there the whole time, "R-r-ussia?"

Russia looks at England, grinning as he saw the injuries on England's shoulders and neck, the banadges no longer on him. He stops, a crack of thunder shattering throughout the room. Russia yelps, ducking under the table, shivering as the storm gets worse. The nations stop what they are doing, seeing a rare sight. Russia scared out of his mind, all over a thunder storm. England groans, walking up to Russia, bending down to better see him. Russia is under the table, his eyes squeezed shut in fear and his arms clasped around his legs. They had only seen Russia like this when Belarus was around, no other time.

"Russia?" England asks, Russia jumping at the sound.

France groans, "Leave him alone Arthur, we still have to find the bombs." France says, "Now come on."

England growls, "For the last time, Alfred's land is 3.79 million bloody square miles and has so many..." England looks up, and idea forming in his head, "Islands." He stands up, "Of course, why didn't I think of it before. Islands. America has captured so many small islands in the Pacfic that its bound to be on one of those, close enough to Japan to get there without refueling!" He says, his stragtisgist skills coming in handy. "Its has to be on an island, its the only way. We won't even have..." He groans, "Oh wait, we will have to go to America so we can get to the Pacific." He says, groaning. "And his boss probally won't even let us into the country now."

France grins, "Leave that to me mon ami." He says, putting on Sungasses, "Alfred did say we had to go undercover, oui? Now come on Arthur." France says, dashing out into the rain.

England grins, "The names Kirkland, Arthur Kirkland." He puts on his own glasses, China stopping him, "China?"

China points at England's open wound on his neck, "Kirkland is staying until I banadge him back up, aru. You can't go to the United States looking like that. They'll cart you off to a hospital the moment you get there."

England groans, looking down, "They only get in my way, bloody itchy things."

"But they keep you from getting infected, aru." China argues, but then stops, "Nevermind, Japan is in trouble and needs help now, aru. I'll handle Russia, you two go on." He says, pushing England out the door, France standing out in the rain. "Here, put these on on the way there." He says.

England nods, "I will, now, to the states."

Him and France dash out, hopping into France vehicle, France starting the car up, "Shall we?" He asks, motioning towards the road.

"After you." England says.

France drives in the direction of the airport, a car following them. England wraps the banadages around his neck and shoulders, shrugging back on the uniform. He sighs, looking around him, it always seemed to rain here when ever he was under a lot of stress, and his stress level was way up. It started with the knew election of _ and now America goin through all this crap. He sighs, leaning back into the soft seat of the car. They go a few miles, France taking a lot of twists and turns, England looking around as he kept making unessary turns. He ignores it and lays back, hoping to fall asleep.

"Hey..." He jumps as France calls him.

"Eh? What?" England says, sitting up.

France is staring hard into the review mirror, "That car is following us..." He says, looking back at the pitch black car behind them.

England sighs, "Francis, you're just being paraniod. That car..."

France shakes his head, "Arthur, I've turned back onto this road at least 4 times, they are following us."

England looks back, "Why would they follow us? We're in a civilian car, the wankers."

France groans, "I don't know...we're you expecting any of your army personell coming to pay you a visit?"

"No."

"Me neither, and that car's windows are blacked out. Something's wrong." He growls, "Something's very wrong."

England growls, "Well, lets lose them." He says.

"Can't, you and your damn rain have made the roads too slick for this car, and besides, we are in the backroads, where turns appear out of nowhere." He says.

"Shit." England says, "Well, continue driving to the airport, we need to get to Am-" He stops as a car pulls out in front of them, France slamming on the breaks. England groans, his head had hit the consle, "Boody hell!" He yells out, gripping his head in pain, "Watch your damn driving you wino!" He says, feeling a large goose egg develope on his head, "I'm already half-way dead from the V-2 bombs, you don't have to finish the j-" He stops, seeing the people getting out of the car. He growls, trying to get France to move. "MOVE THE CAR NOW!" He says, shaking France's arm.

France shakes his head, "Can't, ran off the road, we're stuck." He says, reving the wheels, his voice rising to match England's panic level.

One guy walks up to the door and knocking the window. France and England yell in unison and grab a hold of eachother, the guy taken back. He was in a army shirt and pants, the jacket drapped over his head to stop the rain from hitting him. France and England look at each other, wondering what the heck was going on, and then unclasp each other, shuddering. They look out the window. They we're American soldiers, but they looked like they were just Privates and Corproals and even a sergeant in there. Eight men run up to the car, the first one still knocking on the window, ignoring that the two guys in the car had just screamed like girls.

"They don't look dangerous." France says, reaching for the window, slightly trembling.

"No, don't..." England says as France rolls down the window, cursing under his breath as the soldier smiled down on them.

France rights himself, ignoring the rain pelting his face. "Oui, can I help you getlemen?" He asks.

"Are you Francis Bonnefroy and Arthur Kirkland?" The Private asks.

France and England look bewildered. How did he know thier names? Nobody had any records on them, except for the army, and even those were destroyed everyonce and a while. France nods, curious as to how they knew their names, "Oui, why do you ask?"

The Private sighs, grinning wide, "Glad to met you France and England. We just got a call from Freedom Troop in America and we're here to help you out anyway we can."

"WHAT?" England and France yell out.

England hops out of the car, rushing up to the Private who looks confused. He back sup, England stomping towards him, scared but trying to hide it with fury. "Who the hell do you think you wankers are?" He says, getting right in the Privates face, poking the taller guys chest in anger. "Calling us England and France, you know, I could call the police on you all for running us off the road!" He says, trying to get rid of the people who somehow knew who they were and what they were.

The Private gulps, "Mr. England, we were sent by friends of Alfred F. Jones. They didn't like that the White House put a hit on him and sent the soldiers of Andrew Air Force base after their own nation. We want to help out in anyway, sir." He says, "And we didn't mean to run you off the road, its just we have been trying to catch up to you for an hour now." He explains, the rest of the guys nodding.

England gasps, "The White House? The White House sent a hit on America? MY ALFRED?" He growls out, forgetting he was supposed to be faking innocence. He stops, groaning, "Shit.."

The soldier grins in amusment, "You are England! Listen, my brother sent me to find you, and its been a long search, we actually had a few guys stay behind to go talk to Mr. China and Russia." he replies.

France gasp, hopping out of the car, "You didn't...please tell me you didn't.." His eyes wide in fear, his hair soaked and plastered to his face once again.

The Private looks at France, "Why? What's the matter?" He asks.

France groans, "Russia...gets murderous in this type of weather, you better hope China has him restrained or else you'll be missing some troops." He says, using his arm to sheild his eyes from the falling rain.

Ricks groans, "Uh oh." He looks back at the Sergeant in the car, "Abort! Abort!" He says, waving his arms at the guy.

England shakes his head, the water soaking him through. He stops, cursing as his banadages came off, Private Ricks looking at them in shock. "What happened?"

"V-2 Bombs, persitnat buggers." He growls, "Now since you know who we are, we do need your help. Since you ran us off the road as we we're heading to the airport to get to America, you will carry us there yourselves, am I clear?"

Ricks nods, turning to the Sergeant, "Project Freedom is a go!" He yells.

"Project Freedom?" France asks, "What is that?"

Ricks turns around, "Something the Freedom Troop came up with, it is sort of an under cover mission, as even our supriors don't know about it. We are sort of going against the rules for this one." He says, rubbing the back of his head.

England grins, "Well, since we are going against the rules, I have a mission for you..." He says, following the soldier to the car, "Any friends in...Italy?" He smirks, the soldier looking in confusion.

**Sorry about the long wait...When did I last update? Can't really remember but I'm updating all of my stories that I'm still working on today because it is my birthday. So, yes...Its sort of drifting off the accuracy...but this is mostly to show America's point of view...sort of and he thinks its wrong. Plus, I know that the decision wasn't made for the soul perpouse of revenge, but its is supposed to be very biased... So, that's to answer your question, Hello. And I'm glad that you reviewed and that you like this story. I want to message you back..but you didn't log in. But its supposed to be baised because of America's reaction towards it... so its kinda in his point of thinking. But thanks, once again. I'm 19...really wish I was 21. Vodka...where art thou...or Jagers, Yes, I want to drink some Jagers (German Beer) Because Vodka kinda...makes me... happy one moment and sobbing hysterically the next. So, yeah, here is the next chapter of I'm the Villian. For those of you who love this story, put a :3 on the end of your reviews to show how much you care. **


	12. Update

Hello, this is Keiko Sahara.

I'm sorry that I have left you guys for over 2 years. I've been dealing with curve balls life has sent to put me down. The first is the college life wasn't for me, so I dropped out I regret to say. The Job market just hasn't been kind to me, nor has my family for that matter. I'm now considered the Black Sheep of my family cause of my big heart, and my way of not speaking back when people argue at me... But yes. I've also, one of my biggest factors of why I have not written in the past 2 years is because of my health. I've always been a weak person when it came to health, but my health hit an all time low. I developed the disease known as Herpes Zolster or more commonly refered to as "Shingles" a mutation of the Chicken pox virus. I caught this disease a few days before my 20th birthday, and have had nerve damage from it since. I've been to nureologist after nuerologist when my head started to twitch uncontrollably to the right, non-stop for two months. This has really hampered me, but I have slowly learned to over come this handicap. But the most important reason why I haven't written in 2 years is because I was at job corp learning how to be a pharmacy technician. At the current moment I'm living with my roommate in Wilmington NC and am trying to find a job. But now i'm finally away from my family's depressing household, and am happy for once. Now, I can finally try and work on my story Away from the Sun, and maybe some of Saving America and I'm the Villian afterwards. I'm sorry for my long absence, but know as u can see I've had more than a good reason to have not been working on my beloved story. I hope to at least start dealing out chapters once a month rather than once a week, so i won't strain myself to work so fast on it. And it will be better, and bigger than the first one. I also plan to do a re-write of AFTS, to fix plot bugs and grammar and just make the story flow better. Thank you, and please be patient with me... I'm sorry my fans...

Melissia Vann


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